Marked in Ink
by Outliner
Summary: Stand strong, for your shoulders carry the weight of lives. Stand tall, so the enemy may not see those you protect. Stand proud, for you are a warrior. You are Koa. Your power is your own, for you have earned it. With every trial you overcome, it grows, strengthens. Your skill, strength, achievements -all that you are, layed bare for the world to see, marked in ink across your skin
1. My Mother’s Child

**AN: To those who have just discovered me, welcome. My name is Outliner and this is my contribution to the BNHA fandom.**

**To those of you already familiar with me and my work, I'm sorry. I know I said I wouldn't do this, but I'm starting a new story. I do promise that I'll try to keep my focus on my RWBY story though. I hope you enjoy it.**

**So this is my new story. I got the idea for it while playing Far Cry 3, so you're going to notice a few similarities between this and the game, but it is _not _a crossover. Izuku will have both a quirk and a harem.**

**Warning, this story will be AU. Inko will play a big part in this story and is majorly OOC, and as a result, so will Izuku. Also, like my other story, this one starts a significant time before canon, and will take its time getting there. **

**Anyway, here's the first chapter.**

My Mother's Child

The doctor realized he had made a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth. The air seemed to cool, and he felt a distinct sense of danger, his previously relaxed posture stiffening slightly.

"Excuse me?" the woman across from him asked, her soft voice carrying a threatening undertone. Her unnerving green glare seemed to pierce right through his head, pinning him in place.

Some small, primal part of Dr. Shojima Narohi's subconscious was telling him he sat before a predator, and that if he didn't want to become prey he better start showing some underbelly.

Straightening up in his chair, the bald man quickly amended his previous statement.

"Er- What I meant to say is that the likelyhood of your son developing a quirk is... very low... and that pursuing a career as a hero would be inadvisable...Ma'am." He hastily added the last part when he saw the woman's glare intensify.

Despite lounging in a comfortable leather armchair while her and her son sat on small wheeled stools, it was as if she owned the room. She may as well have been sitting in a damn throne for all the respect her presence demanded. She had a fierce and exotic look about her; her tanned skin skin and unusual, braided green hair worked in tandem with her svelte, curving figure to give her a stunning beauty that drove many men to approach her.

Those same men were sent packing seconds later; a single warning glare was enough to discourage them.

For a few seconds there was silence in the room, in which Shojima shifted uncomfortably. He took a glance at the subject of this appointment, a young boy; the son of the woman who was still burning a hole in his head.

Izuku Midoriya. Just seconds ago he had advised him to give up on being a hero, an action he was now regretting. The boy had frozen stock still upon hearing his words, and had yet to move since then. He just sat there, staring vacantly into the distance with a frozen smile on his face. His hand was curled around empty air, having been clutching a small plastic figurine of All Might which had since fallen to the floor.

"And just what evidence are you basing this conclusion on?"

She possessed a slightly tropical sounding accent. Each word was very deliberately pronounced and laden with a potent amount of frostiness. Shojima gulped slightly and gestured to an X-ray that was clipped to the wall.

"His pinky toe," he said.

Inko Midoriya's eyes narrowed dangerously, and the doctor suddenly realized how ridiculous that must have sounded to someone who didn't have a PhD in medicine.

"His... pinky toe." Her tone suggested he better start explaining quickly or there would be violence. Shojima hastened to comply with the unspoken cammand.

"There have been many studies conducted around quirks over the years. A few decades ago, when the ratio of quirkless to quirk-possessing people was more even, a geneticist found that there was a link between a person's quirk status and the bones in their foot, specifically their pinky toe. Those who had a quirk only had one joint in it, whereas those who didn't possessed two." He got up and pointed to the pinky toe in the X-ray. "Much like your son," he muttered.

He took her silence as permission to continue.

"He found that, contained in the quirk meta-gene, there was a small section of DNA responsible for this reduction. He theorized that it was an inconsequential, but noticeable step of human evolution; our bodies' way of becoming more streamlined. The theory has proved accurate, and it's one of the first things we look at if someone thinks their child is quirkless. If they have that extra joint, it's encredibly unlikely for them to develop a quirk."

"But not definite, correct?" She asked.

Shojima sighed. He had a feeling she would grab onto the small amount of rope that he was professionally obligated to dangle.

"Well no, but it may as well be. It's a quick, cost free and reliable method of determining if a child is quirkless or not. There are tests that are one hundred percent accurate, but-"

"I want one of those done," she interjected, her tone determined.

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "You want to pay fifteen million yen for a test that will clear up the doubt on the zero point seven percent chance that your son has a quirk?" He asked.

For the first time since their arrival, Inko's glare wavered and was replaced by a grimace. That was almost as much as Hisashi's life insurance. She couldn't pay that.

Shojima sensed her discomfort and gave another sigh.

"Look Mrs. Midoriya, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Izuku simply doesn't have a quirk. It's not his fault, or your's or your husband's for that matter, it's just how things are and there's nothing that can be done to change it. I'm sorry."

Inko's mouth set into a thin line. With a stony expression she gently grabbed her son's hand, picked up his toy and led the still vacant boy to the door. Just before stepping out, she paused and turned back to Shojima.

"Your bedside manner needs improving, Doctor."

With that, she left the building.

XXX

Izuku was barely aware of the trip from the doctors office to the car. He allowed his mother to lead him by the hand, trying to comprehend what he'd just been told. Something had yet to click in his head, like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle that he was carefully turning, trying to find where it slotted into place.

He kept turning the piece as Inko strapped him into the back seat of their car and drove off; over and over he spun it in his mind, trying to find a position that completed the puzzle, but it continued to elude him. He just kept smiling with a dead look in his eyes.

As they stopped at a red light, Izuku caught movement from the car next to them in his peripheral vision. Turning his head, he saw a family; a woman behind the wheel, patiently waiting for the light to turn green, a man in the passenger seat and a small newborn strapped to a baby carrier in the back. The man had turned around in his seat to make funny faces at his child's unamused one. Seeing he wasn't having much success, the man changed tactics and pursed his lips like he was whistling; instead of sound, a large bubble formed, growing in size until it was the size of miniature soccer ball. It then left his lips and floated over to the baby, who waggled it's tiny arms in the air, trying to grab onto the floating sphere.

The piece clicked into place with soul-crushing force.

He couldn't be a hero. That thing he'd always wanted to do, those people that he'd always wanted to be - not possible. He had looked forward to the day when he would receive his quirk since he'd been able to understand the concept. He had watched on as his classmates all received their gifts; abilities that made them unique. He had congratulated them with a sincere smile on his face, placating himself with the knowledge that one day, he'd get his as well. Before today, his biggest fear was that his quirk wouldn't be good enough to make him a hero. Before today, his greatest hope had been that it would be as cool and powerful as his best friend's.

Today, he learned that something as mundane as blowing bubbles was more than he'd ever have.

In that moment, Izuku Midoriya knew dispair.

It was not something any four-year-old should know. His entire future flashed before his eyes, and he found himself looking at a long, difficult, and overwhelmingly unbearable life that stretched out before him.

He was at a complete loss for what to do to avoid it.

His young mind saw his friends and peers rejecting him, laughing at him, telling him he was worthless and leaving him lonely and desperate for companionship. He saw the same thing happening again and again as he grew older. Middle school, high school and beyond. Alone.

Tears welled up in his eyes. They pooled at the bottom of his eyelids, and it took a tremendous amount of effort to keep them from falling. A massive sob welled up inside his chest, but he fought it down with all his might. Despite his sudden and terrible premonition, there was still a part of him that rose in defiance of it.

He didn't want to cry in front of his mother; she never cried. Even when they had to say goodbye to Daddy, she let the tears run silently, not once uttering a sound. He had thought she was so strong at the time, he still did. Right now, he needed all the strength he could get.

Inko watched in the rearview mirror as her son's eyes watered, helpless. There was nothing she could say that would make this any easier for him; the only thing she could do was hold him and be there for him. She watched as the tears built up, waiting for the first to fall. She was surprised when it didn't.

"Are you okay, _Abanti_?" She asked softly.

He didn't answer for a few seconds. Just when Inko was wandering if he would, he muttered something too softly for her to hear.

"What?"

He was silent a few moments longer, before repeating himself.

"Kacchan was right, I'm useless. Deku."

Inko's gaze snapped to the mirror, suddenly as hard and sharp as a razor. It seemed she would have to have some words with Mitsuki about her brat.

_'Another time,' _she told herself. Right now she needed to make one thing very clear to her son.

"You're not useless Izuku. The only people who are useless are those who give up, and even they can pull themselves back. No one is ever truly useless, _especially_ not you."

He didn't respond after that, and the rest of the drive home was spent in silence. Inko periodically glanced at him in the mirror, making sure he was okay. When she glanced again, she found that he had wiped the tears from his eyes and was staring out the window. That brought a smile to her face.

Without a doubt, he was his mother's son.

XXX

They didn't talk for the rest of the day. As soon as they arrived home, Izuku went to his room and quietly closed the door. His mother let him go, watching with a sad gaze.

She sighed and turned to look at the shelf that hung beside the TV. There were many framed photo's that it supported, but they had all been shifted to either side to make room for a larger one. The picture showed a tall, dark haired man grinning at the camera. Light glinted off unnaturally white teeth, a side effect of the flames that he could spew forth like a dragon. His black hair curled and flowed around his head in a tangled mess; when they had first met, he had had to ward off many of her attempts to braid or tie it up.

This picture immediately drew attention. The surrounding frames had been tilted slightly inward so they were facing it and left a decent gap on either side, as if leaving it a respectful distance. Two bottles of incense flanked it, and at its base lay a decorative steel dagger, patterns and pictures of water, trees and animals engraved along its blade. It had been her wedding gift to him.

Inko gave the photo fond smile.

"How would you feel about this, _Ha' alukah? _You never wanted him to inherit the Ta'taoh; you never wanted him to leave." She let out a small, bitter chuckle. "But I don't think you would have wanted _this_. Not for our son."

Izuku stayed in his room until dinner. When he emerged and padded over to his seat, he did so without uttering a sound. Some small part of Inko had hoped that making his favorite food would cheer him up slightly, but he just ate a few bites and pushed the rest of his spiced beef around on his plate until it grew cold. She didn't say anything.

She was surprised when half an hour later he tugged at her sleeve and led her to the room where their computer was located; with the way he'd been acting, she hadn't thought he'd be up for it this evening. Nevertheless, she booted up the desktop and loaded the video he wanted as he clambered up onto the office chair. Pressing play, the monitor sprang to life and the speakers emitted the crackling, roaring sound of fire. Smoke filled the screen and showed the hazy forms of people silhouetted against a burning urban backdrop.

"I can't believe it! He must have saved a hundred people already, and it hasn't even been ten minutes! This-this is crazy!"

She stood beside the chair as the video played, one hand on the backrest. She watched as a booming laugh sounded out and a hulking figure appeared, carrying multiple people on his back. She watched as he walked over the top of a wrecked bus, easily lifting what must have been at least five people over his shoulders, all the while laughing.

The camera zoomed in on the hero's face.

"Fear not citizens, hope has arrived. For I am here!"

The frame suddenly froze and the speakers stopped emitting sound. Inko turned her surprised gaze down to her left, where Izuku had one hand on the mouse. Why had he paused it?

"Izuku?" She asked.

He lifted his hand from the mouse and pointed at the still image of the hero's face, which was shrouded in shadow and sported a massive, confident grin.

"He's always smiling mom," he said quietly. He lifted his head to look up at her, and Inko's heart clenched. His eyes were dry, but he looked so vulnerable and fragile at that moment that she was afraid one wrong move would break him.

His big green eyes stared up at her, full of desperation. His mouth twitched a few times as he tried to imitate the hero's smile, before giving up and letting it fall.

He looked back to the screen.

"Do you think the doctor could be wrong?" He asked.

Inko grimaced. At first, she had; she had always thought that her son would inherit hers or Hisashi's quirk. She had hoped it would be hers. Not once had the thought that he might be quirkless entered her mind. She had been in outright denial when the doctor had given his diagnosis, and a part of her still was.

But now she wasn't sure. She knew of children from Koa families who hadn't inherited the Ta'taoh, but they were rare. It wasn't something she ever thought would concern her. Yet here she stood, trying to think of the right thing to say. She finally settled for the truth; she wouldn't lie to him.

"I don't know, _Abanti._"

He was silent for a few more moments, and then...

"Do you... do you think I can still be a hero?"

His voice was unbearably small, his head bowed and his shoulders slumped; nothing like his normally bright self. Inko knew, without a doubt, that the wrong response to that question would shatter his spirit. Luckily for her, answering it was the easiest thing in the world.

Turning the chair to face her, she crouched down before it. Gently cupping his chin, she lifted his head and leant forward so their foreheads were touching and she was looking into his vibrant green orbs.

"Yes, you can be a hero Izuku. You'll need to work hard, harder than anyone else, and you probably won't be among the best, but you can do it."

Izuku stared into her eyes, his own wide. He had been so scared that she would say no, that he couldn't be a hero; but she hadn't. There were two people in this world he admired above all others, and one of them had just told him that she believed he could be a hero, whether he was quirkless or not.

That was enough for him.

A large smile appeared on his face and he gently pulled his mother into a hug. Things weren't quite alright, but he now saw a path that didn't include life-long ridicule and loneliness, and that made things better.

"Thanks mom," he whispered into the crook of her neck. "I'm going to be a hero."

Inko smiled as she hugged him back. She had meant every word; if he made the effort, he would achieve his dream.

Especially if she helped him.

XXX

When Izuku woke the next day to the sound of his All Might themed alarm clock, he was a changed person. Not in a big way, nor a noticeable one, but a change was there. Yesterday he had found out that the world was unfair, regardless of age and innocence. The experience left him a little bit older, a little bit wiser.

Still half asleep, he rolled over to shut the alarm off, rolled too far and fell to the ground with a startled yelp.

...He was still only four years old though.

He remained a groaning heap on the floor for a few seconds longer before forcing himself to his feet and stumbling out of his room.

Izuku had a routine. Each morning, he would wake up, stumble into the kitchen and eat the breakfast that sat waiting for him at the table (Inko was always up before him). After that he'd do his ablutions, get dressed and then kill whatever time he had left before he had to leave for school. Izuku thought it was a rather good routine, and didn't see any reason that a change was warranted.

Boy, was he in for a rough day.

His mom was leaning against the kitchen island, sipping at a cup of coffee and scrolling through her phone.

"Morning mom," he said blearily.

"Good morning Izuku," she responded without looking up from her phone.

Stumbling zombie-like over to the dining room table, he clambered up onto his usual seat and reached for the spoon that sat in his cereal bowl. A spoon that, after waving his hand around in the air looking for it, he found was not present. Upon further inspection, neither was the bowl. This anomaly warranted a significant increase in awake-ness.

Izuku looked around the rest of the table with a confused expression, but it was nowhere to be seen. He craned his head to see into the kitchen, but it wasn't there either. After a few seconds of puzzled searching, he turned towards Inko.

"Uh... mom?"

"Yes, _Abanti?" _She said, still not looking up.

"Where's my cereal?"

"Top shelf of the fridge."

He glanced at the fridge before turning back to her with a perplexed look on his face. "Why?"

"To keep it cold, of course."

If Izuku were a couple years older and more familiar with internet culture, he would have said his mother was trolling him. As it was, he tilted his head and squinted at her for a few moments before getting off the chair and walking over to the fridge, shooting her a weird look every few steps. Opening the silver door, his eyes immediately locked onto the hollowed out head of All Might which contained his breakfast, sitting on the top shelf.

At roughly twice his height.

He looked back at his mom with as much incredulousness as his four-year-old self could muster. He tried a few half-hearted jumps to grab it, but knew it was well out of his reach.

"Could you please get it down for me?" He asked, a little bit of irritation seeping in.

"I can, but it's going to cost you."

Izuku blinked a few times, not sure if he had heard correctly. "What?"

"It's going to cost you," she repeated, _still _not looking up. She tapped once on the screen of her phone and the sound of candy wrappers crinkling sounded out, followed by a deep, rumbling 'Delicious'.

Was she playing Candy Crush!?

He floundered for a few moments, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of something to say.

"Why!?" He eventually settled on.

"It's called business, or equivalent exchange. One party provides a good or service for another party and is compensated according to the value of said good or service."

Izuku understood approximately zero percent of that sentence, and so just repeated his previous question.

"Why!?"

Unseen to him, Inko rolled her eyes. "I put work into making that breakfast for you, and I expect something in return."

"But you've never wanted anything before!"

"Well now I do."

"But-but... other kid's moms don't do this to them!" Izuku cried in a bid to end this poppycock.

"I'm not some other kids mom though, am I _Abanti_?" For the first time, she lifted her head, one slender eyebrow arched in question.

"But...but..." Izuku tried arguing one last time, before deciding he was too hungry to be stubborn and took the path of least resistance. Shoulders slumping slightly, he gave in.

"What do you want then?"

"Push-ups," came the immediate reply.

Aaannnd he was back to being confused.

"...Push-ups?"

She nodded. "Five of them, on the floor, now. Go."

'Go' he did not. "Why push-ups?" He sounded bewildered.

"Because you're skinny. Now do them or you aren't getting breakfast." She said with a serious expression on her face. Izuku stared at her incredulously, searching for any sign that she was joking. He found none, just cold impassivity.

Wordlessly, he bent down and braced both hands against the floor while straightening out his legs, all the while waiting for his mom to start laughing and telling him she was joking. She didn't.

He bent his arms and started doing the push-ups. His arms started burning at three, and began shaking at five. With a grunt he let his knees drop to the floor to support him, before looking up at Inko for approval. Nodding once, she moved over to the fridge, grabbed the bowl and placed it on the dining room table.

_'Finally,' _thought Izuku.

Rushing over to the table, he began shoveling the yellow puffs of All Might brand cereal into his mouth, completely missing the devious smirk spreading across his mothers face.

"By the way _Abanti_, the ride to school is going to cost you twenty sit-ups, so unless you want to walk you might want to make some time for that before we leave," she said.

Milk and soggy yellow cereal fell out of Izuku's open mouth and back into the bowl as he turned to gape at her. With a slight tremor in his voice, he spoke.

"What?"

XXX

The Midoriya's dull red Toyota pulled up outside Shōgakkō Elementary School about half an hour later, containing one not-so-discreetly smirking Inko and her disgruntled son. Before said disgruntled son could exit the car, said smirking mother stopped him.

"About the ride home..." she began, trying not to laugh at the crestfallen look that appeared on his face.

Izuku, who had been half-expecting and completely dreading something like this, gave in without a fight. Trying to get out of the sit-ups had gotten him nowhere, and trying to negotiate the amount of sit-ups he had to do resulted in her adding another five. It had taken him a minute or two to recover from them.

"What do you want me to do?" He grumbled in a defeated tone.

Inko grinned. "Fifteen sit-ups and and five pushups. If you don't do them or only do some of them then I'll know, so don't even _think_ about lying to me, m'kay _Abanti?"_

_'Drat.'_

"Yes mom," he sighed out loud.

"Good," she nodded. "Have a nice day." She let him get out of the car before closing the door and driving off. Izuku watched the car as it went, wondering what on earth had gotten into his mother. He shrugged before smiling; at least he was safe from the craziness here.

"Oi, Deku! My mom told me you don't have a quirk! Are you _actually _more useless than I already thought!?"

His smile disappeared.

_'Aw poo.'_

XXX

Inko slowed the car to a standstill beside him a few hours later, wondering why he was glaring at the ground. Without uttering a word he pulled open the back door, and hopped into the seat, still glaring. She watched on curiously from the rearview mirror, but didn't say anything. Instead, she focused her attention inward on the ever-present, indistinct ball of warmth that overlapped the top half of her heart and, for the first time in months, brought out her quirk.

Her skin tingled as the sensation of crawling insects and falling leaves spread over her skin. Beneath her clothes, the shadows seemed to shift and move. Immediately her senses sharpened and strengthened, while her muscles tightened and condensed. The subtle wave of power that swept through her body caused her to shiver.

Eyes closed, she pulled energy from the small ball and directed it towards a small spot on her back. Her hearing suddenly grew a few times more sensitive, and all of it was focused on her son.

_Ba-bum, Ba-bum, Ba-bum, Ba-bum._

Eyes still closed, she spoke. "Did you do the exercises _Abanti_?"

_Ba-bum, Ba-bum, Ba-bum, Ba-bum._

"Yes," he said shortly.

Inko ignored the anger in his voice and continued to concentrate on his heartbeat.

_Ba-bum, Ba-bum, Ba-bum, Ba-bum._

Perfectly steady.

Smiling, she opened her eyes and looked at Izuku in the rearview mirror, before carefully schooling her features into a blank expression. She hadn't noticed it when he'd first gotten into the car, but now, eyes several times stronger and glowing green with power, the angry red mark on his cheek shone like a polished ruby. Frowning, she cut off the flow of energy and directed it all back into the small ball sitting in her chest, shivering once again as her skin crawled and her quirk receded. Releasing the handbrake, she pulled away from the school gates.

They drove for several minutes in silence, Inko taking glances at Izuku's lowered face every now and again. Without the power of her quirk, the blemish was hardly remarkable; if anyone had noticed it at all, they would probably have dismissed it as a flush or a slight sunburn, but his demeanor and her earlier use of the Ta'taoh told her otherwise.

It was only after a while that she finally addressed the issue.

"What happened?" She asked.

If Izuku was surprised by the question he didn't show it. "Kacchan found out I don't have a quirk," he grumbled, still burning a hole in the carpeted floor.

That was all he needed to say for her to understand. Inko's grip tightened on the steering wheel and her lips thinned; a small indication of the anger she felt inside.

_'Oh, for fucks sake Mitsuki!'_

So it was a burn mark then. Little Bakugou currently didn't have the strength to do much more than imitate a firecracker, but a firecracker to the face would sting nonetheless. At least he was angry; while not exactly good, it was preferable to him being a meek and crying mess (Hisashi had been rather emotional). Reigning in her righteous maternal fury, she asked her next question, voice tighter than before.

"Did you fight back?"

His expression turned into an ashamed grimace. "No," he said. "I tried to, but I couldn't."

Her stony visage softened slightly. She lost herself in thought for a bit as they continued their journey home. Eventually she let a small smile play across her face. No child of hers would be bullied, mainly because that would mean her child lacked the strength to defend themselves. A lack of fighting spirit wasn't something she could work with, but a lack of fighting ability?

That was easily fixed.

XXX

No one had ever accused Izuku of being stupid. In fact, those that cared to pay attention to such things found him to be quite the intelligent four-year-old. That's why he was immediately put on guard when he walked into the dining room and noticed the unusual setup of the table. With as weird as his mom had been acting today, he had learned that any break from their regular routine was cause to be wary.

Place mats sat across from each other at either end of the table. While Inko normally did sit at the head of the table, Izuku always sat to her right, so already this was diverting from the norm. The most unusual thing about the situation were the eating utensils; instead of the lacquered chopsticks that they normally ate with, a fork and sharp, serrated steak knife sat at both placements. His mom was still in the kitchen scooping peas and other assorted vegetables on to two plates alongside strips of tender steak.

After the day that he'd had, Izuku wasn't interested in whatever tom-foolery his mother had planned. And so, glaring suspiciously at her, he pointed at the table.

"Why?" He demanded in his grumpy little four-year-old voice.

Unfazed by his cheek_, _Inko smiled innocently at him as she carried the plates over to the table and and sat them down at either end. 

"After seeing your disgusting little display this morning," she began as she sat down at her end of the table, "I have decided that it's time you learned some proper table manners."

The incident she was referring to was when Izuku had let his cereal escape his mouth after she had told him about his 'transportation fee'. She hadn't been too delighted at the sight and had scolded him while he pouted, wondering what the big deal was; it would all be going back into his mouth anyway.

"So tonight we'll be eating like civilized people. I'm going to teach you how to properly behave, and if you don't listen then you'll lose your computer time for the next three days. Understand?" She asked, while fixing him with a stern look.

Her words immediately raised a red flag for Izuku, causing him to narrow his eyes. Every time she had pulled these stunts today she had said something similar. 'Push-ups or no breakfast', 'sit-ups or no ride to school', 'push-ups _and _sit-ups or no ride home'. Now it was 'Do as I say or you're grounded'; a fairly common ultimatum amongst parents, though in this context it held deeper implications.

While Izuku's thought process wasn't as complicated, he reached the same conclusion.

Squinting suspiciously at his mother's expectant expression, he waited for her to name the type and quantity of exercise he had to do before he could eat. His suspicions only grew when she remained silent. Slowly, he moved to take the seat opposite her, eyes not once leaving her form. The sight of a child barely out of his toddler years staring down an amused adult like she was the most dubious person on the planet was actually pretty funny.

It took a little bit of fumbling, but he managed to climb onto his chair without looking away from his mother. Once he was seated, Inko clasped both hands in front of her, an action which Izuku copied.

"Itadakimasu," they chanted in unison.

Inko picked up her knife and fork and promptly began eating, not giving Izuku a second glance. Much more slowly, he did the same, all the while trying to bore a hole in her head. He didn't trust her one bit.

"Not like that _Abanti_." She said, pointing toward his knife hand. "Like this." She showed him the proper grip for the knife and he corrected it, all the while waiting for her to spring whatever trap she had in place. 

Nothing.

Things continued in a similar vein for the next two minutes. Izuku would observe his mother with all the suspicion in the world, while Inko would eat her food and make the occasional adjustment to his etiquette, innocent as a lamb.

In those two minutes Izuku had been wound as tight as a spring, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it didn't he began looking for it, but his quick glances around the room revealed nothing. He even took a quick peak under the table to see if any skulduggery was afoot there, but the space was devoid of all but his mother's feet.

Izuku began to relax. It had been a while now; he couldn't see anything wrong, and his mom hadn't done anything either. Maybe he was just being paranoid? 

He had yet to take more than a few spoonfuls of peas and he was quite hungry. Being on the lookout had lost its self-preservative appeal and all he really wanted to do was let his guard down and dig in. So he did.

Biggest mistake of the day; no sooner had he lowered his gaze than a florette of broccoli hit him between the eyes.

Izuku froze, staring uncomprehendingly at the offending vegetable lying next to his plate. He was struggling to come to terms with what had just happened.

_'Did...did mom just throw a piece of broccoli at me?'_

He lifted his head to ask that very question, but before he could speak, a slice of carrot shot past his lips and slammed into the back of his throat. His eyes widened and he choked briefly on the unexpected projectile. Banging a fist against his chest, he managed to dislodge the carrot piece. No sooner had he air in his lungs than it was immediately expelled in an indignant shout. Slamming his hands into the table top, he stood up in his chair.

"What was that-!"

"Now, now Izuku," his mother chided, a mock stern expression on her face. "We don't shout at the dinner table, it's extremely rude. Sit down and talk normally." 

Despite completely being in the right, no four-year-old argues with their parent when they take the tone Inko was currently using. Or at least Izuku didn't.

Plonking his butt back into the chair, he started speaking in a softer but no less annoyed tone. 

"Why did you-" 

With unnerving precision, Inko used her fork to flick a pea off her plate and directly into his eye. 

"Ow!"

Another pea hit him on his left cheek. 

"Hey-"

A small lump of mashed potatoes smacked him right in the middle of his forehead and stayed there. Izuku held up both hands to block any further attacks.

"Stop that!" He cried.

Instead of flicking more food at him, his mother responded with another correction of his table manners.

"We aren't monkeys _Abanti_, we don't eat with our hands. You have a knife and fork for a reason. If you touch your food with anything else then you're not getting your computer time."

"But-" he started incredulously.

"Knife and fork." She pronounced each word slowly and clearly, her stern gaze daring him to disobey her.

Throwing his hands up in defeat, Izuku picked up the indicated utensils. The second he did so he had to duck and swerve to avoid another florette of broccoli and dollop of potatoes that were thrown in quick succession.

"Squirming and fidgeting is also very bad table manners. I must say, I though raised you better than this _Abanti."_

By this time Izuku was fed up. Spearing a piece of carrot on his fork, he drew back his arm to fling it back, a look of childish rage on his face. 

"Throw that at me and you won't see that computer for a week." Her voice stopped him dead in his tracks - it was cold and threatening and promised punishment. The few times she had spoken to him like that before was when he'd been on _very_ thin ice. 

He wisely lowered his arm.

"Good. Now sit still, use your knife and fork to cut the food and try not to get any on your clothes. _Do you understand?" _The last part was said with a look that wasn't a glare, but was still fiercely intense. 

Something in her voice got through to him. He recognized it as the way she spoke when she was trying to tell him something without actually saying what it was. 

For the first time that day, Izuku stopped and actually thought about why his mom was doing all these weird things. She never did anything without a good reason, so why was she doing this? What good reason could she possibly have for flinging food at him?

He didn't know, but what he did know was that his mother was much older and knew much more than him. There _had _to be a reason for this.

So he closed his mouth and banished his frown. He scraped the carrot off of his fork with the knife and looked back at her, waiting.

She nodded. "Remember _Abanti, _you can only use your knife and fork."

Hesitantly Izuku nodded. He thought he knew what she was trying to say, but-

A pea smacked him in the cheek. He flinched, but said nothing. Instead he focused all his attention on Inko, watching her like a hawk, the muscles in his arm tensed. Inko stared back placidly. Deliberately drawing attention to her fork, she positioned it behind a piece of broccoli on her plate. Once she was sure he had seen it, she sent it flying towards him.

He reacted. She had flicked it a little softer than the previous volleys so that he could track it, if only barely. Just before it hit him, he hastily brought up his knife and batted it to the side.

The movement was awkward and inelegant. He had hit the vegetable more out of instinct and luck than actual skill, and it was plainly obvious.

But it was what she was looking for.

Izuku looked nervously in her direction, not sure if he had done the right thing. He was relieved to see her give a small nod.

"Good."

That was the last word spoken during the meal. Inko would continue to sporadically fling items of food from her plate at him, and he would attempt to intercept them with his eating utensils. He would miss more often than not, but she was satisfied with his performance.

Anyone observing the bizarre family dinner would be quite confused. A loving mother seemed to be engaged in some strange food fight with her adorable son. They would be hard pressed to see the situation for what it was.

A seasoned warrior teaching history's greatest hero his first lesson.

**AN: I hope it wasn't to boring, but I like to be thorough in my stories and setting everything up takes some time. A little shorter than my regular chapters, but still a decent length I think.**

**If you're wondering what the point of Inko's food flinging was, that will be clarified in the next chapter. As always, constructive criticism and corrections on things I got wrong in terms of the little details is welcome.**

**Reviews are wanted in abundance. **

**See you guys next chapter (hopefully). Cheers!**


	2. A Method to the Madness

**AN: Not a lot to say, except I want to apologize for the format that the last half of chapter one came in. I'm writing from my phone on the app, and it's got quite a few bugs; no matter how many times I changed it, it would revert back to that weird, middle-page position. It annoyed the freaking hell out of me. **

**Anyway, on with the story.**

A Method to the Madness

"It... is... time to get up! Time to get up! Time to get up! Time to to get up! Time to-"

Izuku smacked All Might on top of the head to shut him up. Blearily blinking his eyes for a few seconds, he let out a groan as his brain recognized the fact that it was awake. He _hated _mornings.

Unfortunately for him, he had a parent who had been nothing short of ruthless these past few months. Normally she'd let him continue sleeping for awhile when his alarm failed to wake him up (which was always), but ever since he'd been diagnosed as quirkless, such leniency had disappeared. The first Saturday after the visit to the doctor, he had completely ignored her instruction to get up; it was the weekend, he was sleeping in.

She had poured a glass of cold water on him. It had taken a few more repeats of that morning for him to learn not to ignore his alarm clock.

Throwing the covers off of himself, he rolled off the edge of the bed and landed on all fours, back straight and hands braced against the ground. Grunting a bit, he lowered his body until it was an inch above the floor, then straightened his arms and brought it back up.

_'One.'_

Exercises had become a daily constant in his life, much to his annoyance. If he wanted anything, his mother would make him work for it. A chocolate bar? Five squats. A ride? Thirty sit-ups.

Meals? Indefinite push-ups.

He had become accustomed to them by now. He knew without being told that if he wanted breakfast, he had to do the amount of push-ups that Inko set for him, which was what he was currently doing. It didn't matter that his mom wasn't there to see them, she would know whether he had done them or not. He had tried lying to her before; it hadn't ended well.

Every morning she would ask if he had done the exercises; if he said yes and he had done them, she would hand him his breakfast without question. Him, being the little smartass he thought he was, had skipped his exercises one morning and said 'yes' when Inko asked her usual question. She had immediately called him out on his lie and made him do double the original amount. The same thing had happened the second time, and third time he hadn't even said anything. She had just looked at him and said, "You were going to lie to me."

The woman had some uncanny ability to pick up on his dishonesty, and it put the fear of god in him. He hadn't tried again after the third time. He was smart enough to realize that doing the same thing over and over again wouldn't yield a different result.

_'Twenty.'_

With a grunt, Izuku finished his last push-up and stood up, shaking the fatigue from his arms. The price for breakfast and meals hadn't stayed at five like it had been for the first week after visiting the doctor. Just when the exercises had started to become easy, his mom would add more. When he'd asked why, she had launched into a lecture that had gone right over his head. She had used big words like 'interest', 'inflation' and 'appreciation' and he had understood none of it.

Eventually he'd just given in and accepted the situation. Every few weeks, his mom would up the ante a bit and he'd do the extra exercises with quiet grumbles. Prices now stood at twenty push-ups per meal, thirty five sit-ups per ride, and whatever his mom told him to do for anything else.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he walked into the kitchen. Inko sat at her usual place at the head of the table, some sliced fruit and grapes sitting on a plate in front of her, with Izuku's bowl of cereal sitting to her right. Unconsciously, the boy's shoulders tensed.

"Morning _Abanti," _She greeted, smiling at him. "Did you do them?"

"Yes," he said as he clambered up into his chair, idly observing her from his peripherals. "Morning to you too."

No sooner had his hand touched the spoon than he whipped it up to block the grape headed for his throat. A grin came to his face as he watched the fruit bounce off the curved metal head of the spoon; he was getting good at this.

The grape flew up for a bit before Inko plucked it out of the air and popped it into her mouth with a smile. She always seemed pleased when he managed to block her little attacks, which he had been doing often lately.

Izuku had learnt to be on constant gaurd over the past few months, especially when there was food present. That first night had been the start of some weird, seemingly pointless game that had yet to end. Inko would attack sporadically, sometimes going through a meal without throwing a single item of food, while other times she would dedicate her entire plate as ammunition. It wasn't just during meal times either; Inko had taken to carrying little plastic beads that she had bought from some arts and crafts shop on her. When he wasn't watching out for flying food, he was watching out for those. Inko could flick them with considerable force and spot-on accuracy; getting hit by them wasn't pleasant.

Izuku had learnt to be on constant alert. Whenever he and his mother were in the same room, he made sure to keep her within sight. His eyes would track her every movement and react accordingly. Over time, the conscious habit slowly became unconscious; he would find his body suddenly jerking to block or avoid something his mother had thrown and realize that he'd been watching her out of the corner of his eye. He'd even managed to dodge a few projectiles because he'd subconciously recognized an irregularity in Inko's footsteps behind him, which had caused his instincts to scream at him to get out of the way.

He was slowly starting to understand the new dynamic between them. He still didn't know the exact reason his mom was making him do all these things, but he was aware that they were changing him in some way. There are few people more self-conscious than an ostracized four-year-old with self-esteem issues, and Izuku had slowly become aware of a difference between him and the other kids at school.

Well, multiple differences really. He was more or less friendless, he seemed to be the sole target of everyone's teasing, and obviously, he was quirkless.

That last factor seemed to be the foundation on which all the others were built.

But... it wasn't any of that. There was something else that differentiated him from his schoolmates; something fundamental and basic, but frustratingly elusive. It had nagged at him for awhile now, but he couldn't quite grasp it and had settled for ignoring it.

Izuku continued to eat his cereal, blocking the odd fruit slice and grumbling in annoyance at the few that did hit him. After wiping the milk from around his mouth, he went and did the thirty sit-ups that the ride to school would cost and got ready for school.

Inko was waiting for him at the door. She smiled at him as he hefted his adorable little All Might back-pack onto his shoulders.

"Ready to go?" She asked.

They drove with the radio on, both listening attentively. Of all the weird little challenges his mom had set for him, there was one that was by far his favorite.

"-are being told that a villain with a powerful emitter type quirk is fleeing on foot from heroes Air Jet and his sidekick Ingenium, and Tiger, a member of the recently formed group Wild Wild Pussycats. The suspect in question is believed to be a member of the infamous Bloodless street gang, and has just attacked a group of several men with lethal intent."

Inko took one hand off of the steering wheel and turned the volume up.

"Eyewitnesses report the man firing what appears to be shockwaves from his hands. After hitting the group with one of these attacks, he quickly fled the scene. The victims are being transported to Noakou Hospital as we speak."

There was a pause; muttering could be heard above the slight static of the radio before the reporter continued speaking. "Our ground team following the chase has just informed us that the villain has entered the Harajuka shopping district. We advise anyone in the area to vacate it immediately. The villian is extremely dangerous and appears to be desperate; we are getting reports that he is firing his quirk at the pursuing heroes and has already injured several bystanders. I repeat, anyone in the Harajuka shopping district should vacate immediately for their own safety."

Inko turned the radio back down a few notches, listening with half an ear. "Well?" she said, turning to her son. "What are you thinking?"

He looked up in thought. "Harajuka is the place where we bought my clothes last time right?"

"Yes," Inko nodded, watching him carefully in the rear view mirror.

Izuku was silent for awhile, deep in thought. They had made a trip to the district a few weeks ago. He remembered how crowded it was; the shops and vendors had been closely packed and the streets were full of people. He remembered how they had had to push and weave the entire time, and how his mom hadn't let go of his hand once. It would have been so easy to lose each other.

"There are a lot of people there," he said finally. "If I were running from hero's, I don't think it would be a good idea to go into a place where I can't run as fast."

Inko raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure?"

Izuku hastily shook his head. He was smart enough to recognize that she was telling him he was wrong.

"Really? Why not?" She asked challengingly.

He froze, his mind running frantically, trying to think of a reason why he his answer would be wrong.

"Uh... Oh!" His face suddenly lit up. "The streets inside Harajuka aren't big enough for cars to get through! If he were running on the bigger roads, the hero's or the police could just get into cars and catch him."

Inko paused for a moment before nodding her head. "Ok, that is a valid reason-"

"Valid?"

"It means 'correct'. You're right, the police and hero's can't chase him in cars, but he's still got Air Jet, Ingenium and Tiger after him. Why do you think he ran into Harajuka to get away from them?"

Izuku stayed silent, wracking his brains for an answer and coming up empty. Inko, seeing he was struggling, decided to give him a little nudge in the right direction.

"Who do you think is faster; Ingenium or the Villian?"

"Ingenium," he answered immediately. He was a recent addition to Air Jet's agency, but he had become well known around the community quite quickly. There was no way the villian was faster than him, Ingenium's quirk _was _speed.

Inko nodded. "Ok, so why do you think he hasn't caught him yet?"

Izuku blinked. That was a good question.

"What is it about Harajuka that is stopping Ingenium from catching the villian? Why can't Air Jet simply shoot him with his cannon?" She continued. "There are two main reasons; I want you to try and figure out what they are."

He sighed and closed his eyes, frowning as he tried to work out the answer. At a loss for anything else to do, he simply began reviewing all the information he had on hand.

_'Ok, at the very least, Ingenium and Air Jet should be able to catch him. Ingenium can break a hundred kilometers per hour easily, and while Air Jet isn't as fast, he can fly. Heck, I bet even Tiger is fast enough to out-run the villian.'_

Izuku scrunched up his nose further. What _was_ it about Harajuka that prevented the Turbo Hero from going turbo? His mind flashed through every piece of information he had on the sidekick, trying to figure it out. He went over the man's stats, fighting style, past battles, interviews-

It jumped out at him like a jack in the box.

_"What would you say your biggest weakness is?" The interviewer asked, holding out a microphone for Ingenium's answer._

_The man grinned._

_"Traffic," he said with a laugh._

Izuku opened his eyes.

"There's too many people," he stated. "Ingenium can't use his quirk surrounded by all those people, he'd hurt someone. The crowd is forcing him chase the villian at normal-person speed. Same with Air Jet; the villian is running around and between people, he can't shoot him with his cannon without risking them."

He mused for a few more seconds. "This is actually good for Tiger. His quirk would allow him to slip and squeeze through the gaps in the crowd with no problem."

Inko nodded, a smile on her face. "Good," she said. "And the other reason?"

Izuku kept quiet.

"Think about the roads in Harajuka. What's special about them?" She asked, giving him a little hint.

The boy hesitated a bit. "They're... wind-y?"

"Exactly." She said with a grin. "Ingenium is fast, but he can't navigate, short twisting paths like those ones at his regular speed, so that slows him down as well."

She locked eyes with him in the rear-view mirror. "Now, given all this information, what strategy do you think the heroes should use to capture the villian."

Izuku grimaced and closed his eyes again. Inko kept quiet as the minutes passed, letting him think in peace. Eventually, he opened his eyes.

"Well," he began, sounding unsure of himself. "It doesn't sound like Ingenium would be much help in Harajuka, so if I were him I'd leave the district and try to run around and cut the bad guy off. He and Air Jet probably have some way to talk to each other since they're partners, so Air Jet could follow the villian from above and tell Ingenium where to go so they can ambush him."

He paused to take a breath. "Tiger should continue chasing him. He's the most agile of the three of them, and in that sort of place he's the fastest. If he doesn't just catch the villian, he'll at least chase him until they reach wherever Ingenium is."

Inko was all but beaming. It had taken him awhile and no small amount of prodding, but he had come up with a simple and most likely effective plan to take down a dangerous criminal at an age where others still had trouble figuring out coloring books. Of course, if the villian decided to stop and fight, or maybe take hostages, the plan would fall apart in an instant; but he had gone beyond her expectations and she was happy.

"Good work, _Abanti," _she said softly. "You've impressed me; I'm proud of you."

Warmth and happiness blossomed in the center of Izuku's chest. There weren't many people in his life, and the one who mattered the most had just told him that he'd done well at something; that he was _good _at something. He wanted more of that praise.

For what was probably the first time in his life, Izuku took true, genuine pride in himself.

He would find it to be quite the addicting feeling.

XXX

Playgrounds had a unique sound. No matter the country or culture, anybody was able to recognize the sound of high pitched laughter and children's squeals of joy.

...Except maybe North Koreans.

Being an elementary school, most of the children's time was spent out on the playground; either clambering all over the jungle gym, chasing each other around the yard as heroes and villains or amusing themselves in the sandpit.

This was were Izuku currently sat. Tucked away in the corner of the box, he sat by himself and idly filled his bucket with sand as he gazed around the playground blankly. Anyone seeing this might assume the boy was lonely and gazing longingly at his classmates, wishing to join them in their games.

The reality would have surprised them.

The blank stare he was watching his classmates with wasn't longing, it was analytical. It would lock on to one of the little targets running around him and start dissecting them with the rather crude and blunt scalpel that was his four-year-old brain. He would watch their every movement, take note of their mannerisms and habits, use what information he had to try to predict their actions. Once he was satisfied that he had adequately analysed the person that he was currently studying (or he got bored), he would move onto someone else. The odd use of someone's quirk had him whipping his head around to examine it.

While the teachers at the school would discourage blatant or excessive quirk use in an effort to get them used to the idea of not using their abilities in public, they often turned a blind eye to the small incidents that occured on the playground. They were just kids after all; if there was no harm done, let them have their fun.

Izuku smoothed out the sand at the top of the bucket before tipping it over and carefully lifting it up, leaving behind a short, stubby column of sand.

Maybe it was because he didn't have one of his own, or maybe he just had a natural interest, but Izuku was fascinated by his classmate's quirks. They were all so different, so unique. From the boy who could spin around on his feet like a spinning top to the girl who could change the color of her skin and everything in between; their abilities were incredible.

Izuku's little pillar of sand exploded as a foot came crashing down on top of it. "Hey there, Deku!"

Unfortunately, the same could not be said about the people who wielded them.

His face scrunched up into a scowl. Glaring, he followed the leg attached to the foot up, past a pudgy stomach, past a set of folded arms, past a nasty sneer and eventually meeting a pair of blue eyes.

While Kacchan might have usually been the one... _harassing _Izuku, the blonde had been strangely docile for the past few weeks. Seeing this, a few of the other kids in his class stepped up to the plate to fill the empty role. He found their efforts at bullying him to be far less impressive.

The boy standing in front of him was the one who had taken to his new niche as bully with gusto, and he fit it perfectly. Daiki Asahina was large, both in height and girth, and had a mean streak that had the teachers keeping their eyes on him.

Except for now apparently. Izuku, knowing this wasn't leading anywhere good, looked around for one of the on-duty teachers, but there wasn't a single one to be seen. They must have gone inside for some refreshments or something. Was sitting down and watching a bunch of kids really that difficult?

He turned his head back around to glare at Daiki again. The boy's scalp was covered in a few inches of dark, craggy rock that had cracks crisscrossing all over it; a side effect of his quirk. He could grow that same rock out of his skin at will to make a rough rendition of armor. It was one of the cooler quirks in their class, one that Izuku thought was suited to hero work. Although, he didn't think Daiki would make a very good hero; he wasn't nice.

"Leave me alone, Daiki," he spat. He wasn't in the mood for this. When Kacchan had been mean to him, he hadn't minded all that much, but it was different when others, like Daiki, did it. When they bullied him, it was actually upsetting. The constant taunts, the purposeful exclusion, the rough treatment; it had been going on since before the trip to the doctor.

At first it was just sadness and loneliness he had felt, but those feelings had slowly given way to annoyance and anger. Each 'incident' had seen his emotions progress from despondency to indignation; raising the temperature just a little closer to boiling point.

And for the last few days, Izuku's kettle had been whistling.

Somewhere down the line, he had wondered why he deserved to be to treated like he was. It wasn't enough that he lacked quirk? They had to pick on him because of it?

Well he'd had enough. He didn't want to feel bad anymore.

A flicker of surprise flashed across Daiki's face. Izuku had grumbled and glared before, but this was the first time he was actually challenging someone. He hesitated for a moment before shrugging it off; it wasn't like the smaller boy could do anything, and he was bored.

"Or else what, Deku? You'll make me?" He sneered. He took a step forward as flat, irregular patches of dark rock started pushing through his skin.

Despite himself, Izuku scrambled to his feet and took a few steps back, eyeing his classmate nervously. He wasn't like the others, who were content to limit themselves to words; Daiki _always_ came looking for a fight.

Izuku's display of fear caused a grin to appear on his face. The patches of rock grew larger, forming small segments of armor scattered randomly across his body. This gained the attention of one or two of the other kids nearby, who paused in their games to see what was going on.

Daiki let out a laugh. "My god, you're such a wimp! Why are you so scared? I just took a step towards you."

Yeah, a step that had carried thirty kilograms of aggression just a bit too close.

"I said leave me alone!" Izuku shouted. A few more heads to turned; all around the playground, activity began to slow.

Daiki tilted his head, as if the command amused him. "You know, I don't think I want to," he stated, and started walking towards Izuku.

He stood his ground this time, ignoring the twitch in his legs.

"You're so weak," Daiki taunted, stopping just a foot in front of him and sneering down at his face. Izuku unconsciously took note of the sweat on his brow, the slight flush of his face and the glazed look in his eyes.

The bigger boy reached out with a crooked, rocky finger and roughly jabbed him in the shoulder. Izuku didn't know if it was a wince or a glare, but he had to force his face to stay still. He tried not to make eye contact, instead looking just to the left of Daiki's shoulder.

"A useless, worthless Deku." The last three words were each punctuated with increasingly hard jabs.

"I'm not useless!" Izuku ground out, fists clenched at his sides. "I'm going to be a hero."

Daiki laughed again. It wasn't the fake laugh he had forced out earlier, this one was filled with genuine mirth, a fact that made Izuku more angry and frustrated than all three jabs combined.

"A hero!" Daiki exclaimed, before breaking into another fit of giggles. More laughter sounded out from behind him and Izuku suddenly realized that the entire playground was watching them. A few had started to come closer to get a better look.

Daiki finally stopped laughing, a mocking grin on his face. "You can't be a hero; you can't do anything! You'd just get in the way! If you tried saving someone from a villian, they'd probably end up saving _you!_"

He jabbed Izuku in the shoulder again, hard. Izuku couldn't hold back a grimace this time, and his grin widened when he saw it.

"I knew you were pathetic, but I didn't think you were stupid as well. You have to have a quirk to be a hero, everybody knows that! And you-"

Another jab.

"- don't have one."

Izuku gritted his teeth, fists clenched at his side and his body shaking. His face felt hot. _'I know that! I don't have a quirk and it sucks! Stop reminding me!'_

"I don't care," He growled out. "I'll be a hero. And maybe I'll never be the best..."

For the first time since Daiki had advanced on him, he looked him in the eye.

"... but there's no doubt that I'll be better than you."

All at once, the chattering crowd fell silent. The jeers and laughs died on their lips as they goggled at the pair in the center of the loose circle they had formed around the sand pit. Izuku wasn't sure whether it was what he said, who said it or who he said it to that shocked them, but he didn't care. His eyes were firmly locked on Daiki's.

He seemed just as surprised as the other kids around them. A single, tense moment passed as he processed the unexpected and uncharacteristically bold declaration. Then he scowled.

Izuku reacted without thinking. He had seen the exact moment anger had hit Daiki; his pupils dilated and his eyes had lit up with an angry, violent light. In that moment he knew exactly what would happen. A rock-covered palm shot towards the center of Izuku's chest, intent on knocking the small boy off of his feet, but he was already moving. Daiki's fist was much slower than anything his mom had ever flicked at him.

Izuku spun around Daiki's outstretched arm, his body acting on autopilot. Doing a full three-sixty turn, he planted his feet in the sand and lashed out with both arms in a shove of his own.

He connected, with a force more akin to a double palm strike than a shove. Daiki was blown off his feet.

A few of the on-lookers let out startled exclamations. The violence had been sudden, and the outcome _very_ unexpected. Everyone stared in surprise at Daiki's sprawled out form at the ground, Izuku included. His palms stung; it was like he'd slammed them into a brick wall, but he ignored the pain in favor of trying to figure out what had just happened.

He shouldn't have been able to budge Daiki, let alone knock him off of his feet like that. The boy was heavy as it was, and even heavier when he used his quirk.

Izuku looked down at his arms. There was _no way_ he was that strong; he'd never been that strong! Heck, he struggled to pick up his back-pack sometimes! He was the weakest in his class!

...

Wait... no... he _used _to be the weakest. He _used _to struggle to pick up his back-pack. But not anymore. Izuku clenched and unclenched his fists, the muscles in his fore-arms bulging as he did so. He was strong.

His mind suddenly flashed through all the push-ups he'd been forced to do over the months. All the sit-ups, squats and other exercises; they flickered before like a flip book.

_'Oh.'_

He didn't have anymore time than that to marvel. Daiki shot to his feet with a growl and went to push at Izuku again, this time succeeding. It was Izuku's turn to be knocked off his feet, the breath leaving his mouth with an audible '_oof_'.

He landed hard on his back near the edge of the sandbox. Distantly, he could hear the kids around him start clamoring excitedly again as the natural order of things seemed to reassert itself as Daiki gained the upper hand.

His instincts were screaming at him to move; that he was vulnerable and in danger, but he was too busy trying to suck air back into his lungs to heed them. His classmates clamoring got louder, and a second later cold, jagged hands roughly flipped him onto his chest and shoved his head into the sand.

Izuku immediately started squirming and panicking; he had just had the breath knocked out of him, he needed to breath! He tried lifting his head, but Daiki was pressing on the back of it with both hands; it didn't budge. He bucked and wriggled, trying to squirm out from underneath his grip, but a second later Daiki sat down on his back. Arms and legs flailed to no avail; he was well and truly trapped beneath the heavier boy.

With each passing second, Izuku's panic grew. _He couldn't breath. _Desperately, he opened his mouth to take in oxygen, but only received a mouthful of sand for his efforts. He squirmed and bucked harder, but Daiki was like a bag of cement. He didn't budge.

_'This isn't working!' _He thought. He needed to try something else! He needed to think! He needed to _breath_!

Izuku stilled for a moment as his mind raced. Daiki's quirk was awesome; he knew it and the thumb-suckers surrounding them knew it. Izuku knew it too, but he knew more. He'd been watching, analyzing, learning; for no other reason than it was fun. He hadn't planned on using the information in a fight.

Daiki's quirk, Exfoliation, had two main disadvantages. The most glaring one was that maintaining his patchwork armor was a conscious effort. Any loss of concentration and the rock would start to recede, and it goes without saying that a four-year-old wasn't the most focused of individuals. Izuku had noticed how Daiki had seemed distracted during their confrontation; he had seen the way the rocks had begun to shrink back into his skin, both when he'd laughed and when Izuku had shoved him.

It wasn't something that he had made any effort to conceal, but at the same time he'd never mentioned that particular aspect of his quirk, and neither did anyone else.

The second, less obvious one was what sprang to the forefront of his mind: it was unwieldy. Having irregular, heavy masses grow randomly out of different parts of someone's body would wreck their sense of balance.

And Daiki was currently resting all of his weight on the back of Izuku's head.

He wrenched it to the side and took a deep gulp of air, now facing toward the far end of the sandbox. That had been horrible! He'd been seconds away from passing out!

The sudden movement dislodged Daiki's grip, his hands slipping to the side and burying themselves in the sand beside the back of Izuku's head.

Izuku didn't hesitate. Adrenaline and rage flooded his veins, his face flushed and his ears hot. With his head free, he had a much wider range of movement; he took full advantage of this as he spun beneath Daiki and slammed the point of his elbow into the boy's exposed rib cage, just below his shoulder. Luckily, that particular spot wasn't covered by rock, and he fell off of Izuku with a pained grunt.

Izuku scrambled to get his feet back under him and settled into a crouch, one hand braced against ground. Snarling visciously, he regarded his stunned opponent for a second. He lay on his side, clutching his ribs and groaning, but any moment now he would get back up. This fight wasn't over, and he wasn't going to lose damnit!

But first, he needed to get rid of that armor.

Izuku sprang forward at the same time Daiki started to push himself up. Before the bully knew what was happening, Izuku grabbed his head with both hands and slammed it down on the edge of the concrete box. Once, twice, the rocks that covered his head bashed against the short concrete wall that surrounded the sandpit with the sound of bricks being dropped on tarmac.

The cheering of their classmates cut of abruptly, like a cat that had died mid-yeowl. All of sudden the fight had shifted from entertaining to serious, and they reacted with alarm at the sudden brutality that the normally timid Izuku displayed. Some small, instinctive parts of their brains registered that the violence they had just witnessed wasn't something someone their age should be capable of, and it was unsettling.

The blows, however, had done exactly what Izuku had intended for them to do. Daiki's rocky scalp prevented his skull from sustaining any serious damage, but the two consecutive hits had left his vision swimming and his ears ringing. The mental hold he had on his quirk slipped and the rocks sank beneath his skin, leaving him lying on his back, completely vulnerable.

Izuku briefly considered ending things there, but then dismissed that thought.

_'It's not over yet.'_

He raised his fist above his head before slamming it into Daiki's soft stomach, just below his rib cage. His back shot off the ground as his hands and knees came up to instinctly protect his torso, his eyes wide and his breath escaping him in an explosive gasp. A second later he was laid out flat again by the punch Izuku drove into his face. It then rocked sideways; a left hook. Then a right hook. Blood spurted out of Daiki's nose.

He landed three more punches on Daiki's face, each just as hard as the last. Each one landed with a meaty smack that caused the children watching to flinch back, their fear and unease growing with each one.

Just as he raised his fist for a fourth one, Daiki managed to gasp out a plea.

"Please," he whimpered softly. "Please, stop. No more."

Izuku froze with his fist in the air, staring down incredulously at Daiki's face. Tears streamed from his eyes and blood surrounded his mouth and nose.

_'Stop?' _He thought angrily. He'd been asking them for weeks- no, months to stop! To leave him alone. To stop calling him names and breaking his stuff and hurting him. And had they ever listened? No, they hadn't! They'd just laughed and carried on. Did this idiot really think he was going to stop now?

A single tense second passed.

...Yes, he was.

Slowly, Izuku lowered his fist and stood up, backing away slightly from Daiki's limp form.

_'Now it's over,' _he thought grimly. He'd won. He'd made his point and he'd kept his pride; taking the fight any further would have been pointless. It would have made him just like them.

"What is going on here?!" He heard a teacher shout from behind him.

He didn't turn. He didn't move his gaze from Daiki. A horrified gasp sounded out from behind him and a teacher rushed past to kneel beside the boy's prone form and frantically check him over.

"Masaru, get the first-aid kit!" She shouted. A second later one of the male teachers hurried over with a small metal box and joined her.

Izuku didn't move an inch, and neither did any of the other kids.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. He looked up at the heavily frowning face of a third teacher.

"Come with me, Midoriya." She said sternly.

He didn't resist as she steered him away from the sand pit and back towards the school building. As they left, he gazed around at his assembled classmates, making eye contact with as many of them as he could. Nervous and wary eyes looked back, along with a few scattered glares and sneers.

They didn't affect him though; he didn't care anymore. He would have liked to have had a friend or two, but half of these people had stood by and watched and laughed as the other half had bullied and harassed him. He didn't want anything to do with them.

He now realized what was different about him. The frustrating question whose answer had eluded him for the past few months now made itself known.

He wasn't the strongest of his class. He wasn't the most powerful. He wasn't the fastest, or the smartest. He wasn't the funniest, or the most popular, or the richest.

But he was better than all of them.

XXX

"Mrs. Midoriya, thank you for coming."

The principal's voice was stern, as if he were talking to a naughty child. He sat in a plush office chair behind a dark chestnut desk, regarding Inko over steepled hands with a grim expression. He had short, spiky black hair that stood straight up, like a cartoon character that had seen something terrifying and had yet to get over it. He wore a casual business suit and his dark, black eyes glinted from behind wire-frame glasses.

Inko thought he looked more suited to a corporate job than running an elementary school. A few moments passed as she waited for him to stand and greet her.

"Please take a seat," he said, gesturing to padded steel chair across from him. It was voiced more as an instruction than a polite suggestion.

Inko gave him a flat smile as her eyes narrowed. So apparently the whole 'standing and greeting' thing wasn't going to happen.

She moved to sit down, sticking her hand out as she did so. "Good morning Mr. Sawaka, how are you?" She asked, a bit pointedly. He seemed a tiny bit surprised by the gesture.

"I'm fine," he said shortly, giving her an equally short handshake.

_'Well, aren't you a charmer.'_

"Mrs. Midoriya, I called you here to talk about your son," he said, his tone sounding grim.

"I'd gathered as much," she responded dryly. She'd seen Izuku sitting in a chair just outside the room, under guard by the teacher sitting next to him it would seem. She had been ushered into the principal's office before she'd had a chance to talk to him.

"He got into a fight with another boy today, and things got extremely out of hand. I understand that children will sometimes get heated in their disagreements, but what your son did today goes beyond simple rough housing."

Inko blinked. "What do you mean?"

Mr. Sawaka leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands on top of one another. "Mrs. Midoriya, I have been working with children for twelve years now, and not once have I ever seen something like this. Izuku displayed a level of violence and brutality that I'd expect to come from a teenager in some sort of reform school. Quite frankly I'm shocked and deeply concerned."

"Ok, but _what happened_? I'd like some details if you don't mind," Inko said tersely, annoyance starting to creep into her voice.

The principal's lips set into a thin line and he turned the computer monitor on his desk to face her. On the screen was a paused black and white video from what looked like a security camera. It was centered on the jungle gym in the middle of the playground, children scattered all around the frame, frozen in the middle of running or jumping or laughing.

"The fight took place in direct view of one of our cameras. Perhaps it's better if you see for yourself."

He tapped one of the keys and the video started playing. Inko's eyes flicked across the monitor, trying to locate her son, before Mr. Sawaka pointed to the lower left corner of the screen. There, sitting in the sandpit, was Izuku. A small frown came to her face as she saw that he was alone; she knew he had a hard time making friends with the other kids at school, but actually seeing his isolation was unpleasant.

The frown smoothed over into a blank expression as she saw a bigger boy approach and stomp on the little sandcastle he had made. She watched as events unfolded from there- rocks grew from the boy's skin, he began antagonizing Izuku and eventually tried to push her son. Then the fight broke out.

Mr. Sawaka stopped the video at the point where one of the teachers began leading Izuku away.

"As you can no doubt imagine, the staff and I are very concerned," he began. "That sort of behavior is highly disturbing and-"

"That boy," Inko interrupted, face still blank. "Is he alright?"

The principal paused for a moment, looking mildly annoyed at being cut off. "For the most part, yes. His nose is swollen, but thankfully not broken, and his quirk prevented any head injuries more serious than a goose egg. It's really just cuts and bruises, nothing that won't heal in a few days."

Inko folded her arms. "If that's the case then what am I doing here?"

Mr. Sawaka stared at her for a moment, as if he hadn't heard her. Then he blinked.

"Excuse me?" He asked, sounding surprised.

"What am I doing here?" She repeated. "The boy isn't any more injured than if he had a nasty fall. He provoked Izuku, they got into a fight, and my son won. This is nothing more than a playground scuffle; certainly not important enough to get me involved."

"A play- Mrs. Midoriya, this is most certainly not a 'playground scuffle'! Your son slammed another child's head onto a hard concrete edge not once, but twice, before proceeding to beat him! If it had been anyone else they might very well be dead!"

"But it wasn't anybody else, it was a child that had rocks protecting his head," Inko responded, a calm contrast to the flustered principal. "Izuku knew exactly what he was doing. He wouldn't have done that if he knew it would have seriously hurt him."

The principal stared at her disbelievingly. "Mrs. Midoriya, I know you love your son, but the level of bias you're currently showing is ridiculous. Izuku's little display is no small incident; no matter what way you look at it, it was violently brutal and completely irrational! That sort behavior isn't normal and it is most _certainly _not healthy. He needs therapy."

"Therapy, huh?" Inko murmured, sounding genuinely amused. "Well that isn't going to happen I'm afraid, but while we're on the subject of bias, I'd love to have a chat with you about that."

The sudden track-switch seemed to throw Mr Sawaka off. "What?"

Inko smirked at him. "I'm going to do you a favor and tell you exactly what I just saw in that video Mr Sawaka, because it's going to be the exact same thing a judicial court will see."

The principal stilled and lost a bit of color. Shōgakku was a private school, it had no government backing. 'Judicial court' might as well be synonymous with a death threat.

"What I see," Inko continued, ignoring the suddenly tense man opposite her, "is my son being bullied for what must be the hundredth time in the past few months. And before you start spewing denials, do be aware that he frequently comes home with a rather diverse range of injuries, including mild burn marks; not the sort of things children normally acquire by running around."

Mr. Sawaka pressed his lips together in a thin line and kept silent. He knew that some of the children had a bit of growing up to do, but he didn't like the way she was being so casual about this.

"Then, when the judge or lawyer asks for details, I'll explain that despite Izuku going to the teachers for help, little to nothing has been done. And, of course, you've just provided a video that shows a boy not only provoking my son, but attacking him as well. Using that as an example of the months of unmitigated torment he's gone through, I'm pretty sure any judge would dismiss his actions during the fight as justifiable."

Inko grinned. "Then the judge would review the facts. Izuku has been regularly bullied for months. Said bullying includes taunts, insults, purposeful exclusion, property destruction and physical harm. Despite the teachers being informed, nothing is done. Bullying continues."

She ticked each fact off on her fingers. "That by itself sounds like a pretty serious charge of negligence, but of course the last fact, the fact that he's quirkless, changes the entire tune doesn't it? Then it starts sounding like blatant discrimination. It helps that the one time he retaliates, you immediately crack down on him."

Mr. Sawaka was silent. This was not how he had imagined this meeting going. He didn't know if she was being serious about a legal suit, but he desperately hoped she wasn't. The way she had just summarized her case did indeed sound bad; even if she didn't win, the newspapers would no doubt catch wind of the story, and that would be the end of the school.

"So here is what's going to happen," she said as she leant back in her chair and crossed her legs. "I'm not going to punish him. _You_ sure as hell are not going to punish him. You're going to explain to your staff, like I'm going to explain to my son, that he will not start any fights under any circumstances, but will defend himself if any of the other kids try to hurt him. It will be up to you and the teachers to make sure that they are kept under control."

She stood and looked down at him. "The ball is in your court now Mr. Sawaka. I'm going to make sure Izuku behaves himself; the only trouble you get will be from the other children. You and the teachers are responsible for any fights involving my son from now on."

She spun and walked to the door, only to pause with her hand on the door knob. Looking over her shoulder, she said one final piece.

"Of course you're welcome to try and call my bluff about sueing you. Izuku and I could use the extra money."

And with that, she left.

**AN: Exams crept up on me when I wasn't looking and are now holding a knife to my throat. Send help.**

**For those of you who read my other story, I will _not _be doing the whole 'one-review-one-hour' thing again. You guys nearly killed me.**


	3. Stronger Strides

Stronger Strides

"_Abanti_, dinner's ready!"

"Coming mom!" Izuku shouted back, hastening to put the finishing touches on the picture he was drawing of his future hero suit. A large, misshapen swirl of primary colors vaguely resembling a human figure was etched onto the page before him. Izuku quickly discarded the peach colored pencil he'd been using and grabbed the yellow one from the pile scattered around him, fumbling a bit with how short it was. The coloring set had been one of the gifts he had gotten for his birthday three weeks ago, and the blue, red and yellow colors in particular were approaching an unusable length.

Quickly scribbling two yellow smudges onto the top of the helmet of his hero costume, he regarded it with pride. Anyone else would have rolled their eyes in fond exasperation; it was as best a copy of All Might's costume as any five-year-old could draw. The only thing out of place would be the surprisingly detailed knife the smiling figure held between it's stick-fingers.

Izuku had spent hours copying the etchings from his father's blade.

Snatching up a few of the more well used pencil crayons and another sheaf of paper so he could continue drawing at dinner (a risky decision considering he'd be simultaneously watching out for flying food), he rushed out the door.

He smiled happily as he walked down the passage, thinking about what he wanted to draw next. He smiled a little more as he decided to copy his Daddy's photo; the one by the knife.

He missed him.

Exiting the passageway into the living room, Izuku halted, his smile disappearing with a confused blink. There was no food at the table. His mother was nowhere to be seen. The lights in the living room and kitchen were off, leaving the area shrouded in darkness. It was nearly seven in the evening, and the atmosphere of the apartment was akin to that of a bruise; mauve colored shadows hung in the air, mixing in with the weak orange light of the recently set sun to create a rather ominous gloom.

Reaching out to his left he flicked the light switch, growing a bit more anxious when they didn't turn on. He flicked it on and off again several times just to be sure, but nothing happened. The hand left the switch to nervously scratch at his chest.

"Mom?" He called out, a subtle tremor in his voice.

There was no answer, but it wasn't silent. He could hear a regular, hollow tap from the kitchen which, after a few seconds, he realized was water dripping into the sink. The familiar clicking sound of his mother's egg timer echoed from the other side of the room, roughly where he knew the dining room table to be. The TV's screen was black, but he could tell it was on because it emitted a faint hum. On the wall to his right he could hear the ticking of a clock.

It was with a slight start that Izuku remembered they didn't own a clock.

"Mom?" He called a little louder this time.

The shadows suddenly darkened, and he whirled around to stare back down the passage. The light that had streamed out from his room was gone; it had switched itself off.

Eyes wide and heart racing, he slowly backed away from the passage, shifting the pencils between his hands until he clutched the longest one in his right fist.

"Mom! Mommy, where are you?!" He shouted, his voice now showing the panic that he felt. It was dark, he was alone, and he was scared. Where was she? Why wasn't she here? Why had his light gone out? Had someone switched it off?

A creak echoed out from the wooden floorboards. Izuku was standing still.

He turned sharply to face the direction the noise had come from, heart racing and eyes struggling to make out anything in the dim light. There was someone in here with him. Another creak came from behind him, prompting him to whirl around, still not seeing anything. A few seconds later the sound of rustling cloth could be heard from somewhere to his left, further increasing his panic and causing him to continue frantically looking around.

"Who's there?!" He demanded with a trembling voice.

He was answered by another small sound, this time louder and on the opposite side of the room. Before he could turn to face it another came from his right. Then another from the kitchen. Then another. And another. And another.

They were all around him, getting faster and louder. They were no longer creaks and rustles, now they were the thuds of heavy footsteps and sighs of hard breaths. Izuku could feel the vibrations in the floor and displaced air brushing against his skin. And they were getting closer.

"Stop!" He shrieked, his voice shrill with terror. He scrunched his eyes shut and covered his head with his arms. "Stop! Please, just stop!"

Silence.

Izuku stayed as he was, arms protecting his head and letting out quick, shallow breaths. After a few seconds without hearing any of the sounds, he slowly lowered his shaking arms and looked around. He couldn't see anything other than the furniture; the dimly lit room was exactly as it had been when he entered it. The only sounds he could hear were the ones that had been there from the beginning. The TV hummed, the timer clicked, the clock on the wall ticked and behind him, the sink dripped.

And then the drip became just a little bit quieter.

Izuku spun and thrust out with the pencil in his fist, fear overriding all else. A hand wrapped around his wrist and stopped it in its tracks. For a second, Izuku stood frozen; pure terror stopped his heart and stilled the blood in his veins.

Staring at him from the head of a silhouette were a pair of bright, glowing green eyes.

"Well done, _Abanti_."

All at once the terror was replaced by intense relief, causing his shoulders to slump and his entire body to go limp. That was his mother's voice, those were his mother's eyes. With a sob he collapsed into her embrace and clutched her tightly.

Inko wrapped her arms around him and rubbed his back soothingly, feeling just the slightest bit guilty. She couldn't say she didn't mean to scare him, because she did, but seeing the raw terror in his eyes when she had caught his arm had shown her the cruelty in her actions, no matter how well-intentioned they were.

All of a sudden he roughly pushed himself out of the hug and glared up at her, accusation clear in his gaze.

"Why'd you do that?! I thought a robber had broken in! I was so scared!" Angry tears sprouted as he continued shouting. "You can't do that! Don't ever do that again! You're not allowed to!"

Inko sighed as she began walking into the kitchen. Izuku, for all his righteous anger, followed her closely, not wanting to be left in the dark again. Flipping the circuit breakers that sat on the wall next to the fridge, she apologized as the lights came back on. "I'm sorry, _Abanti_. I didn't mean to scare you that badly."

"You shouldn't have scared me at all!"

She took two plates of noodles out of the fridge and moved over to the dining table, her son angrily stomping after her. "I had to get your adrenaline pumping somehow, otherwise I don't think you would have sensed me," she explained as she sat the plates down and Izuku plonked into his chair.

"What are you talking about? What's adrenaline?" He demanded, aggressively stuffing the food into his mouth with a cute glare. Inko struggled to hold back a snicker.

"It's a liquid in your body that makes you and your senses stronger when you're angry or afraid."

"Well I'm both!" The residual fear from his mother's little prank still lingered in his system.

"I can tell, _Abanti_," she responded wryly. "I really am sorry, but I wanted to see if you could do something. You can and you did it brilliantly."

Izuku's glare softened some as curiosity and pride at his unknown achievement began diluting the anger. "What did I do?"

Inko smiled at seeing her stroking of his ego begin to lessen his anger. "Tell me, how did you know I was behind you?" She asked.

Izuku blinked and looked down at his plate in thought. The last five minutes were a bit blurred together, on account of having the shit scared out of him, but he did remember what had clued him in to the presence behind him.

"You were standing really close," he murmured. "Everything behind me just seemed… quieter."

"Exactly," Inko beamed. "You aren't always going to be able to use your eyes in a fight. I want you to be able to use your other senses against your opponent as well; hear their footsteps, feel the air moving, listen to the sounds around you. It's like seeing, but with your ears and skin."

Izuku paused for a moment; he didn't completely understand what she was talking about, but he did pick up on one thing. "So… you _are_ teaching me how to fight?" He asked tentatively. Even after six months, the exact reasoning for his mother's actions had never been expressly stated. He couldn't imagine what else all these little games and exercises were meant to accomplish besides getting him ready for combat, but the idea of his mom actually teaching him, and therefore encouraging him to a degree, to fight was strange.

Inko glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Yes," she admitted, without any reservation. "When did you figure it out?"

He looked back down at his plate. "After me Daiki and I fought."

She nodded before lifting a clump of noodles to her mouth. After chewing and swallowing, she asked, "Do you remember what I said?"

Izuku did. During the ride home after she had been called in by the principal, she had done exactly as she had promised and explained the situation to him.

"If they're just being mean to you," she had instructed, "you don't say or do anything. Ignore them and go to the teacher. If the teacher doesn't do anything, then you come to me. Do you understand?"

After seeing him nod she continued. "The only time you will ever hit one of your classmates is if they are breaking your things or they try to hit you. If they're breaking your stuff, I want you to warn them that you're going to hit them if they don't stop. If they still carry on, then follow through with that warning."

He had nodded again.

"And if you think they're going to hit you, let them try. Don't ever be the one to hit first. Let them try to hit you, block or avoid it, and then fight back." She had then made eye contact with him in the rear-view mirror. "If you follow these rules, I promise you, you will never get in trouble for fighting at school."

Izuku fiddled with his chopsticks. "Yes."

"Good." Inko nodded. "Now that you understand exactly what it is we're doing, I want to add on to what I said. Listen closely." Making sure she had his full attention, she continued. "Those rules only apply to fighting children your age. If it's anyone else, I want you to forget about them."

Izuku tilted his head and blinked in surprise. "Really? Why?"

Inko sat her chopsticks down and regarded him seriously. "You tried to stab me with your pencil earlier," she said suddenly, nodding toward the would-be weapon in question, lying on the floor where he had dropped it along with the rest of his drawing supplies.

Izuku flinched in horror and whipped his head around to follow her gaze. He gasped with the realization that he'd almost hurt his mother. "I'm so sorry," he gasped. "I swear, I didn't mean to!"

She shook her head. "Don't be sorry, Izuku. That's exactly what you should have done."

He blinked, bewildered. "What?"

"If you're just fighting bullies, then it isn't that dangerous; whether you win or lose, you shouldn't get anything more serious than a few bruises or cuts."

"Ok," said Izuku, though he didn't sound certain.

"But if you ever think someone like an adult or a teenager is going to try and hurt you, or take you away, then I want you to hit them. I want you to hit them as hard and as fast as possible, and then do it again. Try and hurt them as much as you can; stab them, scratch them, bite them, hit them with something heavy. Do whatever you can and then run away as fast as you can and find help."

Izuku frowned doubtfully at his mother. The things she had just told him to do went against everything he thought was right. Not so much the hitting part, but the raw, violent register she had used to deliver her instructions clashed with his noble four-year-old ideals of heroism. When he spoke, his voice carried a note of incredulity.

"You want me to hurt someone and then run away?" Bite, scratch and stab? Those things by themselves sounded dirty, but running away after doing them to a person? That sounded more villain-like than anything. Villains ran from heroes, not the other way around. "That's not what a hero would do."

"You're not a hero yet, _Abanti_," Inko reminded him cooly and with a sharp gaze. "You're a five year old boy without a quirk. There are bad people who will do bad things to you out there Izuku, and you're not even close to strong enough to fight them."

Izuku felt a spike of betrayal at his mother's casual mention of his quirkless nature. She knew he didn't like being reminded of it, and was the last person he expected to throw it in his face.

"I fought Daiki, and I won too!" He shouted in defiance.

"Daiki is five as well, and that was a different kind of fight, _Abanti_." Inko pointed her chopsticks at his chest, an action that was particularly aggravating to the young boy considering she had explained to him not three weeks ago why it was bad table manners to do so. "Tell me, if you got into a fight with Mr. Akihiro from downstairs, do you think you could beat him?"

Mr. Akihiro was their kindly downstairs neighbor. He sometimes stopped to talk in the halls and always greeted them whenever he saw them. He was of a gentle disposition, and Izuku had trouble imagining him so much as lift a rolled up newspaper to a fly. Even if he were to get into a fight, he'd be hard pressed to win; he barely beat out Inko in height and had a thin and wiry frame that was only going to get more feeble as he moved into his late sixties. He moved around well enough, but he was no spring chicken.

Despite this, Izuku hesitated to answer as the point his mother was trying to make slowly sunk in. It didn't matter how weak Mr. Akihiro was, he was an adult and Izuku was a child.

"No," he muttered.

"Oh?" asked Inko with mock curiosity. "Why not?"

Izuku's head dropped. "Because he's a grown up."

"Exactly. Remember Izuku, people don't have to be a villain to hurt you; they just need to be stronger than you are."

Izuku spent a minute digesting her words, before nodding slowly.

"I understand."

She glanced at him. "So what are you going to do if you think someone is going to put you in danger?"

"Hurt them and run away."

His mother nodded. "And that's what I'm going to teach you how to do tomorrow."

XXX

Izuku hummed contently as he sat at his table, using his brand new set of pencil crayons to draw the bit of the playground he could see outside. It wasn't a good attempt by any stretch of the imagination, but one had to be impressed by the level of dedication he had put into such a small project. He had spent almost two hours on it, and if one were to compare it to the view outside they would find a large amount of corresponding details. The fact the details were poorly copied meant little in the face of all his effort.

Of the five desks that made up his group's table, his was the only one occupied. It was the last few hours of the school day and their caretakers had given the free reign of the classroom until their parents arrived to pick them up. While he sat tucked away in the corner, all around him his peers socialised. Some played with figurines and toys at the front of the room, others chased their friends around in a muted form of tag and the rest were seated randomly at the other tables, talking and laughing with each other. Some even drew as Izuku did, though they did so in groups.

He was very noticeably alone. Not that he particularly cared, or even noticed at this point. Ever since the incident in which Daiki had ended up with a mild concussion, most of the other children had avoided him with determination and all the teachers had watched him like a hawk, the memory of the explosive violence he had displayed etched into both parties' memories. Those few children who had felt threatened rather than disturbed by his actions had tried to confront him those first days after the fight, hostile expressions on their little faces. They were swiftly turned away by nervous looking teachers.

Even now Izuku noticed how they tensed up when any of his peers seemed to approach him.

Truth be told, he had grown used to it. He had been isolated before the confrontation with Daiki and he was even more isolated now. The only difference was that he now preferred it. The other kids didn't like him, and he now knew the other kids weren't worth liking. The tension that had existed between him and the rest of Shugakkū Elementary had faded into a mutually exclusive co-existence. As long as they left him alone, he didn't care about them at all.

He idly scratched his chest as he added a disproportionate petal to a lopsided flower.

Honestly, the only person who he even remotely wanted to interact with was-

A slight breeze tickled the nape of his neck and his ears picked up the sound of breathing, the sound louder than it had been a second ago. Ever since the night in which his mom had given him heart palpitations, he had learnt to recognize stimuli such as these as signs of someone's presence in his immediate vicinity, and as such, had become acutely aware of all individuals within two metres of him.

Looking up, he blinked in surprise.

"Kacchan?"

The blonde stood a few feet away, looking extremely uncomfortable.

"I'm only doing this because my mom told me to."

The muttered words had barely reached him before a folded note landed on his desk and his friend was gone.

Izuku stared at the retreating back in bemusement for a few seconds, then turned his attention to the piece of paper in front of him. It looked like it had been ripped out of a notebook and was folded into quarters, his name scrawled out in rough kanji on the front. He regarded it for a few seconds, before nervously scratching his chest again and unfolding it. He had only just begun to learn reading, so it took him a while to decipher the three short sentences.

_I was wrong. You're not useless. I'm sorry._

A fuzzy warmth grew behind Izuku's breastbone as he stared at the single line first in disbelief, then elation. His head shot up to gaze adoringly at the blonde, who was staunchly staring at a blank wall at the other side of the room.

The fuzzy feeling grew warmer, causing his skin to prickle. While the note looked like nothing more than a half-hearted attempt at an apology, Izuku saw the significance behind those eight words; Kacchan hardly _ever_ apologized and had _never_ admitted to being wrong. The graphite markings may as well have been gold leaf for how valuable they were.

Izuku made himself a vow then and there. He had no doubt that Kacchan would be a hero one day, probably one of the best. He would be a hero too, but whereas before he hadn't imagined ever getting past the level of a local sidekick, he now promised himself that one day the two would stand side by side at the top of the rankings.

Because if Kacchan admitted he 'wasn't useless', then he had the potential to be freaking _invincible_.

XXX

It was dark inside the small house. The sun had just risen a few minutes ago, and had yet to peek out from above the trees. What pale, weak light did reach the house was prevented from entering by the dark curtain drawn across the windows.

It was silent. Like the occupants inside, the world seemed to have gone asleep. There were no rumbling engines, there was no screech of brakes or click-clack of trains. No signs of movement, human or otherwise. The only sound was the odd bird call of avians beginning to wake from their roost, and even they seemed tentative to disturb the tranquility.

The house consisted of nothing more than a bedroom and living room. Everything inside it was old and worn, but clean. The far wall of the living room was made up of cabinets, a rickety old stove and a fridge. The faint smell of spices hung in the air, remnants of last night's meal.

In the bedroom lay two forms, their dark, patterned forms covered by sheets. The small bed forced them close together, but had it been bigger, they most likely would have ended in the same position. Frizzled green hair splayed across the pillows, gray starting to seep into the roots and dull the verdant color that still showed at the tips.

The larger form of the man lay on his back. From beneath the sheets, a small green glow appeared; the light shift and move, waning and strengthening as the man began to stir. A soft frown slowly crept onto his face as his body shifted, a mild stinging sensation that emanated from his chest. The feeling continued to grow, along with the brightness of the glow, until his conscious mind could ignore it no longer and he awoke.

Boanat awoke with a small gasp, his hand clutching his chest through the sheet. Not knowing what had woken him, his eyes darted all around the room searching for any sort of threat or danger. He quickly moved to sit up in bed, his eyes finally catching sight of the shimmering _Ālana_ on his chest.

"_Ha'_ _alukah_?"

His gaze turned to his wife beside him. Tomoti's hair, defying the disorder that sleep normally inflicted upon people, flowed from her scalp in smooth shiny strands that normally hung around her waist. She lay propped up beside him on an elbow, eyes meeting his. Despite how sharp they were, Boanat could see that she was struggling to fight away her slumber.

As one, they turned to look at the small, glowing symbol on his chest. It was one of six that surrounded his _Ma Ta'taoh_, a swirl of lines that surrounded a simplistic image of a fish. The glowing symbol looked like a squashed triangle cupped inside a stretched-out 'V', and was no bigger than his finger nail.

This one symbol was unique in the way that since it had first appeared on his skin five years ago, Boanat had not once felt anything from it like he had the others.

Not until now.

Slowly, he and Tomoti turned to one another, grins creeping across their faces. Throwing the sheets aside, Boanat grabbed a leather cord from the bedside table and began tying his hair back as he made his way over to the cupboard.

"_I was beginning to get worried_," Tomoti stated in their native tongue.

"_So was I_," he responded. "_It was foolish to do so. Koa blood runs in his veins as strongly as the Lua Fall's._"

He pulled on a pair of pants and then reached for a leather harness hanging from one of the coat hangers.

"_I'm leaving as soon as possible. Tep and Shaipa will come with me._" Fastening the last strap, he pulled a large, decorative blade with engraved designs on it from one of the shelves and placed it in a leather sheath at the small of his back.

"_Soon, we'll have a new warrior in the family._"

**AN: I know it's been awhile, and I know it's short, and I'm really sorry. Inspiration and motivation has been lacking as of late and I'm struggling to output quality or quantity, especially with this story. With my other one, I have a very clear idea of where it's going to go, but I've really only planned this one up until just after Izuku begins U.A.**

**However, this does not mean I'm quitting either of my stories, or even putting them on hiatus. If I start something I finish it. I just… you know… might be a bit slow-going at times. But I promise I'll try and do better.**

**So, read and review, and if you have a cool idea for this story, feel free to share.**

**Anyway, cheers!**


	4. When Koa Come Knocking

When Koa come knocking

The barest sliver of gold peeked out from above the water, and all of a sudden the world was awash in light. It danced on the ripples of the sea like fire, forming a shifting, shimmering gold pathway that connected Ryoji to the horizon.

He sighed in pleasure. This was one of the many benefits of working on the docks; seeing this sight every morning was well worth the early hour. Ryoji was someone who appreciated the finer things in life, and this moment - the cool morning wind flowing around his jacket, the beautifully dappled sky and absence of the normal city sounds - definitely counted.

He checked his sleek silver wristwatch. All around him were stacks of grimy wooden pallets and coils of rope thicker than his arm. A few cargo ships were moored alongside the concrete wharf, their contents currently sitting in the warehouses behind him, but other than that the harbor was unusually empty. The breeze carried the smell of fish from further up the coast, going unnoticed by Ryoji who had long since gotten used to the smell.

With uncanny timing, a small speck appeared over the horizon just as the second hand struck six o'clock. He grinned; right there was another benefit to working on the docks.

Ryoji had started off working as a simple loader at the age of nineteen, helping to moor incoming ships and doing basic grunt-work. He had had no interest in going to college, and so had taken to drifting from job to job. He had been stacking shelves in a grocery store when his uncle had managed to get him an interview for a much better-paying gig hauling cargo to and from warehouses. It was similar work really, albeit the latter involved assistance from heavy machinery.

Five years, three promotions and one or two institutional courses later, Rouji was a certified Ship Inspection Report Program vetting officer. Any ship that came to berth in the harbor was to be inspected for any structural faults or safety violations, and couldn't leave until the assigned SIRE inspector signed off of the required documents.

Now, Ryoji was not the most scrupulous of individuals. It had been small, almost negligible things at first - a few faulty fire extinguishers and minor hull damage his attention had been drawn away from by thick envelopes. It was only after a year and a half of working as a vetting inspector that he had accidentally stumbled onto the path he now walked.

It had been a small shipping vessel hauling several tonnes of car parts. During his inspection, he'd tripped into one of the crates. It must have been held together with sticky-tape and hope, because it fell apart like a game of jenga. Brake pads scattered all over the deck; those were meant to be there. What wasn't meant to be there were the baggies full of small blue pills.

Both he and the captain had frozen, staring at what they both knew was illegal cargo. After a long, silent pause the captain turned to him. "Ten thousand US dollars. This never happened." Ryoji, who had been on the verge of running for his life, stopped and stared at the man before kicking the baggies underneath the other crates and carrying on with his inspection.

He'd been able to buy a new car with that money, and a good one too. He'd thought himself lucky then, but the encounter had turned out to be a gift that kept on giving. The ship captain had friends, friends who also wanted to move cargo that wasn't supposed to be on their ships, and apparently the captain had singled him out as the person to go to. Suddenly Ryoji was being approached by seafarers from various parts of the world; all of them shady, all of them looking to move something through customs and all of them willing to pay.

Before he knew it, he was part of a smuggling network. He made sure never to bite off more than he could chew, so he stayed away from big operations, but anyone looking to move small contraband through Yokohama port? Ryoji was the guy to go to.

He had to say though, this particular job was a cinch. He frowned slightly. A little too much of a cinch, actually. Three men, the men in the seaplane that had just touched down on the water, had agreed to pay two hundred thousand yen for twelve hours in the country, no passports or documentation necessary, and if they were to be believed, they weren't bringing any cargo in or out of the country. That left their intentions unknown, and that made him slightly uneasy.

He gently shook his frown away; he was probably just being paranoid. It was unusual, but Ryoji knew asking too many questions wouldn't be appreciated. He always made sure he knew what his clients were moving - just in case they were trying to smuggle a nuke or something similar into the country - but other than that he minded his own business. As long as he got paid and they didn't bring the fuzz down on him, he couldn't care less about what they did in their twelve hours. His only concern was making sure no one questioned what an unregistered vehicle was doing at port.

The bright yellow plane drifted to a stop alongside the wharf, the engine slowly stuttering to a halt. The side door opened and the pilot tossed one end of a rope to Ryoji without saying a word. He then hopped down and tied his end to one of the struts that connected the right pontoon to the fuselage while Ryoji calmly went about weaving it around the cleat fixed into the concrete.

"Good to see you again, Dan," he greeted the pilot in english. The passenger bay door opened and his three clients climbed out. Dan grinned back at him. "You too, Ryoji."

He turned his attention to the three men standing to the side, taking in their appearance for the first time. His shoulders tensed ever so slightly. The men were easily distinguished from one another, but there was a certain uniform quality to them that left little doubt that they were a group. Their clothes were different, but similar. All wore drab, dull clothing. Khaki cargo pants, plainly colored shirts and well-worn shoes. One wore a bulky olive military jacket, and the other a navy puffer vest. The third, the oldest, simply wore a sleeveless gray top, leaving his muscular arms and shoulders bare to the world. Ryoji couldn't help but stare.

They were covered in tattoos.

Intricate black pictograms and tribal markings flowed across his skin like ripples on water, cuffing his wrists and traveling all the way up to his shoulders before disappearing under his shirt. A few black lines crept up his throat, stopping just short of his adam's apple. From the sleeves and shirt-collars of the other two he could see similar patterns. They all had green hair, all had tanned-bronze skin and all had a hard, sharp look to their eyes and faces. They held themselves comfortably, but Ryoji got the impression that any one of their powerful forms could close the distance between them and break his body faster than he could blink.

He almost thought them to be part of a yakuza family, but then dismissed that notion. They clearly weren't Japanese, and yakuza didn't look this disciplined, this casual; they tended to make their deviance known in the way they dressed and acted. These men reminded him more of soldiers dressed in civilian clothes. Danger and violence barely restrained by the personas of average citizens.

Question was, what business did such people have in Japan? Ryoji didn't like the answers that came to mind.

"See something interesting?" Asked a thickly accented voice. It almost sounded Caribbean.

Ryoji started and blushed slightly, embarrassed at having been caught staring. The older man's eyes twinkled with amusement and the other two looked like they were also hiding smiles. "Sorry," said Ryoji cautiously. He wasn't sure what type of men he was dealing with, only that they didn't look like they should be trifled with. "You're a lot different than the people I normally deal with."

The older man, who he assumed was the one in charge, nodded acceptingly before gesturing to the man to his right, who stepped forward while reaching inside his military jacket. Ryoji stiffened and took a small step back. This seemed to amuse the three men even more.

"This is the first half of your payment," the man said, handing him a small bag. "The rest you will get when we leave."

Ryoji nodded his head, weighing the heavy drawstring and glancing between it and the man's face. He was handsome, with a neatly groomed beard and long green hair tied in a bun at the back of his head. He couldn't have been more than two or three years older than himself. Ryoji's eyes were drawn to where he had pulled the money from; peeking out from the inside of the jacket was the hilt of a knife.

He put the money away without counting it.

"Remember, you need to leave by six o'clock this evening," he reminded the trio. The leader laughed.

"Don't worry, _Um Hoabo_. We probably won't even take half that long."

Ryoji shifted uneasily. "Look, I'm not going to ask what you're planning on doing, but whatever it is, don't lead the police back here, or any heroes. I don't need that kind of attention on me."

The one in the puffer vest shouldered a small gym bag that lay at his feet. "Of course," said the leader. "We will-"

He suddenly cut off and looked down at his chest, the other two following suit. Ryoji blinked and peered closer; it was hard to tell in the sunlight, but it looked like there was something glowing beneath his shirt.

"_Inkāne ulu yomele_," said the one in the puffer vest. "_Makou pono na hamba_."

The leader nodded, his face now serious, before turning back to Ryoji. "We will be back soon," he turned to leave but then paused. "I do not think you will cause us any deliberate trouble, but just in case the thought crosses your mind…"

His eyes suddenly exploded with green light and turned slitted. Ryoji paled and blanched in the face of his sudden glare.

"Don't."

Dan crept up beside him as they watched the three walk away. "Those three are dangerous, Ryo. I saw them gearing up on the plane; they're here to cause trouble."

Ryoji turned to him, not quite having regained his color. "Gearing up?"

Dan nodded. "Weapons. Guns, knives… fuck, I think I even saw a grenade at one point. Don't know where they made them all disappear to either; no way that bag is big enough for everything I saw."

Ryoji dragged a slightly trembling hand over his face. "I don't care how early it is, I need a drink."

Dan grunted in agreement. "After that flight, so do I."

"Come, I have a bottle of brandy in my office."

"How do you say 'fuck yes' in Japanese?"

"_Seikō Hai_."

"Well, Seikō Hai my friend."

XXX

Izuku all but skipped through the school gates, a beaming smile on his face. Behind him, Inko watched in amusement from the driver's seat of their car. 'I should bring him to crime scenes more often,' she mused. As horrifying as that thought would seem to any other self-respecting parent, it sounded far worse than it was.

In modern times, there were crime scenes and then there were 'crime scenes'. The former was the dictionary definition of the phrase - blood, broken glass, bodies and forensic teams - while the latter was the colloquial term for fights between villains and heroes. It was this that they had made a detour to go see.

In a world where dangerous and unexpected events could occur at any time, in any place, people had developed a keen sense of situational-awareness. The instant things started breaking or exploding or burning, people knew there was most likely a villian in the vicinity and that their well-being was in danger, and subsequently vacated the area as quickly as possible. A decent display of power could empty a street in a matter of seconds.

There were however, times when things didn't break or explode or burn; when the villain wasn't so powerful. In times like these, when people's finely tuned survival instincts were telling them the danger was minimal, their curiosity got the better of them. They would stay to watch the villain be dealt with by the heroes, the opportunity to not only see their idols in person, but in action, proving enough motivation to stay close by.

The heroes didn't mind all that much; as long as citizens didn't get in the way or needlessly put themselves in danger, they could focus on doing their jobs. In fact, some heroes started taking advantage of these conflicts with trifling villains, defeating them in fights that involved just as much showmanship and unnecessarily flashy moves as actual combat. Some heroes came to view these fights as little more than slightly risky PR stunts, acting up for the crowd watching a safe distance away.

Hero spotting, it was called. Izuku was more than familiar with the term, but this morning was the first time he'd ever done it himself. His mom had been driving him to school, listening to the radio broadcast about an ongoing altercation between Fourth Kind and a villain with a mutant-type quirk, when they had spotted the very fight down a side street as they drove past.

Izuku had practically begged to make a detour past the scene. Inko had pursed her lips, thought for a second and then made a right turn, smiling.

And that was why he was only now walking through the front gates, over half an hour later than he should have and wearing a blinding grin. It hadn't been a particularly tense fight; in fact, he had heard some of the hero spotting hobbyists call it dull. The villain was… well, she had looked like a pixie, in every sense of the word. Incredibly short and petite - only a head taller than Izuku - auburn hair in a pixie cut, a mischievous glint in her eyes and two pairs of gossamer wings that she used to flutter a few meters above the ground. Apparently she had stolen some jewelry from a second story apartment.

While being incredibly quick, she had had next to no combat ability and a limited flight range. Right from the onset, the fight had belonged to Fourth Kind. The only reason the whole incident had lasted as long as half an hour was because of the Chivalrous Hero's reluctance to strike a woman. He had eventually swiped her out of the air and used his arms to pin her limbs together until the police could restrain her.

To a five-year-old hero geek, it had been one of the most exciting things he had ever witnessed. It had filled his chest with an almost painful yearning. His hand raised absently to rub against the spot just above his heart; even now the feeling still lingered. He had to go and tell Kacchan about this. Oh, he could already see the look of jealousy…

XXX

"_We have found him. Inkombi just dropped him at his school_," Shaipa spoke into the phone, a large clunky thing that looked more like a tv remote than anything else.

"_The Shiam has been all but roaring at me, like an angry tiger. Has the boy awakened his Ma Ta'taoh?"_

Shaipa watched as the verdant-haired child walked into the building, rubbing his chest. "_Not yet, but he is close._" His eyes roamed over the street, before casually glancing over his shoulder, making sure nobody was sneaking up the alley behind them. There was a short pause on the other end of the line, before Boanat spoke again.

"_See if you cannot push him over the edge. Scare him, make him desperate_."

Shaipa's eyes shot to his partner. Tep hadn't moved since the red car had pulled up. He was staring at the doors to the school with the same wistful, forlorn look he had stared at the driver's seat with.

"_Is that wise, Boanat? This place is not like home; the people here may not take kindly to that, and there are many whose attention we do not need_," he muttered into the satellite phone. He knew Tep could hear him no matter how softly he spoke, but hoped that his friend was too distracted to pay attention to his words.

"_We came prepared. We can deal with any_ pituan _that tries to stop us_." His voice took on an amused tone. "_That is not why you are hesitant, though, is it Shaipa?_"

His eyes once again flicked to Tep. Boanat was uncannily perceptive. "_No, it isn't_." He bit the inside of his cheek. "_Is this not asking too much of him? He has only just seen them again. I don't think he wants his first time meeting Izuku to be as an enemy._"

The older man chuckled. "_Do not worry about Tep, he knows it is best for the boy. Wait until activity on the street subsides before you act. If you can, try to drive him back to his mother. If not, bring him yourselves and try to remain discrete about it."_

Shaipa sighed. "_Yes, Boanat._"

The line abruptly went dead and Shaipa tucked the phone into the inside of his vest. Joining his partner in staring at the front doors of the school, he relayed their instructions. Other than his mouth tightening in disapproval, Tep gave no reaction. Shaipa lent against the wall of the alley, feeling all the weapons on his person shift around as he did so.

A nagging feeling, one he'd learned to never ignore, told him he would need them today.

XXX

Izuku held the picture up to the light to inspect it, a comically critical expression on his face. He tilted it left, then right, staring at it for a few seconds each time before giving a satisfied nod, just like people he'd seen in movies do.

The picture he'd just finished depicted a four-armed, snarling, red-headed man in a suit grabbing the leg of a flying pixie, who was blowing the man a raspberry. Setting his pencil down, he idly gave his chest a quick scratch, before lifting the page and showing it to his friend across the table.

"It looked like this, Kacchan."

The blonde was staring at him with a frown, eyes briefly flicking to the page before settling back on his face. "Have you got a rash or something?"

Izuku tried not to let his disappointment show. "Huh?"

"A rash. You've just scratched yourself for, like, the hundredth time now. Do you need some baby powder or something?"

Izuku blinked. Had he been scratching? Ignoring the slightly mocking tone of his friend, he pulled at his shirt collar, peered down at his chest and winced. He _had_ been scratching. The top half of his chest was a bright, angry red. Little red scratch marks lined the edge of the spot, and the skin was raised and puffy. How had he done this without realizing? It didn't even itch.

Gingerly, he stuck a hand underneath his shirt and touched the centre of his chest, preemptively wincing at the tenderness he expected to feel. Only he didn't; what he felt was completely unexpected. A prickling sensation emanated from the spot he touched, washing over him from head to toe. Izuku shuddered; it almost tickled, like millions of tiny spider legs scuttling over his skin. It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but it set his hairs on end and left his skin tingling with the phantom sensation.

"Oi, Izuku. You okay?"

"Y-Yeah," he stuttered. Frowning, he said, "I think it _is_ a rash."

"Eugh, Seriously? Well, keep away from me then. I don't want to catch it."

A mischievous grin spread across Izuku's face. "What's the matter, Kacchan? Why are you leaning away? Don't you want a hug?"

The chair clattered in place as said child quickly scrambled out of it. "Izuku, you green idiot, don't you dare!"

"That's not nice, Kacchan," he admonished as he gave chase, arms spread wide. "You shouldn't call people names! Come apologise to me!"

"No! Stay back, or I'll blast you to pieces!" A series of little pops and sparks punctuated the threat, not quite meeting the requirements to carry it out. Undeterred, Izuku advanced, laughing.

XXX

Boanat walked through apartment, taking everything in with a curious gaze. His boots thudded softly against the polished wooden floor, little specks of dirt flaking off the soles every few steps. It wasn't a big place, but it was more than enough for two people to live in quite comfortably. He paid careful attention to the photos lining the walls, scrutinizing them for all they were worth. Birthdays, dinners, days at the beach and other such occasions. Some featured people he didn't know, friends presumably. None of the photos that showed Izuku past the age of four had any hint of Hisashi.

He stopped and looked at the pseudo-shrine on the shelf next to the TV, a soft grimace on his face. He had never seen eye-to-eye with Hisashi, but he had been a good man, and Inkombi's husband. Boanat knew the pain of losing a spouse. His gaze hardened some when it landed on the dagger at the foot of the frame, before he sighed and looked away. As much as he didn't like to admit it, Hisashi had been worthy of receiving the blade.

The two bottles of essence flanking the picture gave the room a pleasant, soft fragrance. He breathed in deeply, filtering it out, along with the sharp, synthetic smells of cleaning chemicals and the fainter smells of the city outside.

There. The smell of spice. The smell of freshly turned soil, of rosemary soap and light perspiration. It was a scent he hadn't smelled in nearly seven years, familiar, yet different. The smell of sea salt was missing, as was the sweet aroma of plant sap. He sighed; it was to be expected, he supposed. Inkombi probably hadn't been near the ocean in a while, and he doubted one could find the plants that grew on Lua anywhere else in the world, especially not in the middle of a city.

He also smelled blood, but that didn't concern him. Almost half of the women he had walked past on the street had the same scent. If it was a little stronger here, well, she was Koa. Blood was a common theme amongst the clan.

Beneath that was another scent, faint, but there. It wasn't one he was familiar with, but he knew who it belonged to. The same rosemary smell, but mixed in with pencil shavings, sugar and a more pungent smell of sweat. And again, blood.

Boanat frowned, wondering why a child's scent had that familiar metallic pang. Directing a trickle of his _sunan_ to one of the _ālana_ along his spine, his sense of smell sharpened, all the different odours criss-crossing the room stopping just short of overwhelming. Following the one that held his interest led him to the linen cupboard in the hallway. Opening it up, he blinked in surprise at what he found inside.

In amongst the sheets, blankets and pillow casings sat a training dummy, one used for combat. It was a featureless, humanoid thing, with stitched black vinyl skin and stubs for arms and legs. There were scuff marks all over it, and little smears of rusty brown color around its torso and groin. Those were the source of the smell he'd followed.

Boanat stared for a few seconds, before grinning in satisfaction. It seems Inkombi was raising her son according to his heritage; he'd been half-afraid she had forsaken that life completely. It was good to know the boy wasn't helpless.

Closing the door, he started towards the bedrooms. There was no sense in wasting time, so he may as well start packing for them.

XXX

Izuku unconsciously rubbed the scabs on his knuckles as he idly kicked a ball around, humming happily to himself. He had matching scrapes on his elbows and knees. He wished they would disappear; they itched and irritated him when he wore long clothes, and his mom said he couldn't practice until they healed. He liked practicing.

He sulked for a moment, before shaking it off and resuming his self-play. Kacchan was off playing with some friends that weren't him. He was okay with that; no one else wanted to say more than a few words to him at a time and he didn't want that to become a consequence of association. He was happy to have his one friend, even if that one friend's other friends avoided him like the plague.

Izuku kicked the ball near the locked front gates of the school, landing just in front of them. He hurried over and picked it up, startling as he straightened. There, standing on the other side of the gate, were two men, men he was sure had not been there when he'd bent down. He had gotten used to being aware of people's presence, so not sensing them beforehand was half the reason for his surprise. Both were staring at him quite intently. Not glaring, but there was no difference to a five-year-old. They both had their hands in their jacket pockets, one sleeveless blue and the other green.

"Uh, H-Hello?" He asked tentatively, not sure why they were staring at him.

"Hello," they said in unison.

A few silent moments passed in which Izuku waited for them to say something else. They didn't.

"Do you need help with something? I can go get one of the teachers." He pointed behind him. The front office could be seen through the glass doors.

The man with his hair in a bun shook his head. They both had green hair, like him and his mom. "That won't be necessary." Izuku thought only girls wore buns. "I am sure you can help us just fine."

He jerked his gaze away from the man's hair. "Me?" He asked, pointing a finger to his chest. He shifted his feet uncomfortably. The man spoke in that same, funny way his mom did. He unconsciously scratched his chest, only realizing what he was doing when he saw the men's eyes watching him.

"Yes." This time it was the man in the blue jacket that spoke. He was a bit shorter, and his hair was nowhere near as long. He also spoke weirdly. "We are looking for a boy named Izuku Midoriya. Do you know where he is?"

Izuku took a step back, his stomach starting to twist itself into knots. He looked over his shoulder at the front office and then back to the two men. They were still staring at him. Swallowing, he said hesitantly, "I'm…uh...I'm Izuku Midoriya." His eyes flicked to the locked gate and back.

"Oh?" asked the man with the short hair, not seeming the least bit surprised. The knots in Izuku's stomach tightened.

"Um, look, I should probably go. Mom said I shouldn't talk to strange people," he said, already turning around to leave, debating telling the teachers about the two men.

The man with the ponytail frowned and his partner's eyes narrowed. "You do not have to worry about that, child. We are not strangers" the shorter one said, hands leaving his pockets and disappearing behind his back. Izuku's eyes followed the motion closely. "Your mother knows us. She sent us to come get you."

Izuku went cold. That was exactly what his mom had said kidnappers would say, right before she told him that no one except herself and Auntie Mitsuki would ever take him anywhere.

"Mrs Kiya! Mrs Kiya, there's two men here trying to take me away!"

The other kids on the playground stopped what they were doing and looked over, startled. Through the glass doors, he could see the secretary's head look up from the desk. The man in the green jacket slammed his fist against the gate, causing it to rattle violently. "Shut up, brat!" he growled. The other man was glaring at him now, teeth bared and eyes glowing green. A thrill of fear went through him at meeting his gaze.

"Mrs Kiya!" His voice was a bit more shrill this time. He turned to run inside, but stopped when he heard the shorter man's words.

"We have your mother! Come with us, now, or you will never see her alive again!"

Izuku froze midstep, before turning and staring at the pair in horror. They were wearing savage grins, seeing that they had grabbed his attention. '_They're lying_,' he told himself. '_They've got to be lying! Mom would beat anyone who tried to hurt her!_' The woman had risen to stand beside All Might in the young boy's mind. It was inevitable after all she had taught him and all he'd seen her do.

"What is going on here?" The secretary, Mrs Kiya, stormed out of the building. "Who are you two?" There was no politeness in the usually kind woman's voice. Teachers that had been supervising the playground at the other side of the yard stepped out from the crowd of gathering children, glaring at the two men with cellphones poised threateningly half-way to their heads.

The three ignored all of that. Izuku's focus was on the two men, pressed up against the gate, and their's was on him. "You're lying," he said firmly, pushing whatever doubt he had to the back of his head. "You're lying!" He didn't like how their grins widened and somehow became more menacing.

"Sirs, if you don't leave immediately, I'm calling the police," Mrs Kiya threatened, her voice cold. Once again, she was ignored.

"Are you sure, boy?" asked the man with the ponytail. The metal bars creaked under his white-knuckled grip; Izuku thought he could see them start to bend. "Are you sure you are willing to risk her life? We have already hurt her quite badly, and if you don't come with us right now, we'll do the same to you before making you watch as we kill her."

Izuku retreated under their menacing stares. "You're lying," he said, voice trembling now, but still sure. The two exchanged glances before the man in the green jacket reached up to his neck, the other hand still gripping the bars of the gate. He pulled a necklace from under his shirt and held it out by the cord so Izuku could see it.

"Do you recognize this?" he asked.

Izuku stared. He did recognize it. He felt like he was going to be sick. Oh god, he _did_ recognize it. It was that little wooden fish that hung from its leather cord he'd seen hundreds of times before. It was his mother's. Why did they have it? It was meant to be hanging from the corner of her vanity, not in this man's hand. It wasn't meant to be here. _Why did he have it?_

"Where did you get that?" he asked, voice shaking.

"We took it from your mommy," the man sneered derisively. "It is quite surprising we did not get any of her blood on it. Do you still think we are lying?"

No, he didn't. Izuku began shaking like a leaf; they had his mom. They'd _hurt_ his mom! Why? Why would they do that? What did they want? No, that didn't matter. _They'd hurt his mom!_

Tep and Shaipa exchanged glances as the boy began shaking. They'd gone too far; the boy was staring at Tep's necklace like a statue, a look of horror frozen on his face. Shaipa could see the regret in his friends eyes; he hated doing this. It had been for nothing, anyway. The boy was unlikely to unlock his _Ma Ta'taoh_ in this state. If he had been angry or desperate this might have worked, but with how horrified he looked, they had probably set him back more than anything.

"The two of you need to leave, now!" Shaipa turned his attention to the woman who had come out. She was shouting now, and walking towards the trembling boy. "Izuku, come here-"

In the blink of an eye Shaipa had a gun in his hand and pointed at her head. He was partially aware of the children off to the side screaming at the sight of the weapon as their caregivers hurriedly pushed them around the corner and out of sight. The woman herself gasped and stumbled back a few steps with a terrified expression. Her face said she wanted to run inside like the others, but she stayed, her eyes flicking between the gun and the boy. He felt respect for her, she was a brave woman, but he couldn't let her take him. Law enforcement would no doubt be on their way now; they needed to get Izuku to his mother and leave immediately.

Tep gripped the gate by the lock, eyes now glowing, and without so much as a grunt, ripped it open. The woman shrieked and retreated another step, while the boy whimpered and shrunk in on himself, eyes wide and filled with terror. The two men could hear his heart practically vibrating, and though neither had Boanat's exceptional nose, the scent of fear was no doubt rolling off of him in waves. Tep and Shaipa shared a glance, before Shaipa inclined his head in Izuku's direction. Grimacing slightly, the man started towards the cowering form.

The woman looked panicked. "No! You stay away -!" Disengaging the safety with a sharp click, Shaipa reminded the woman of the gun pointed at her head. She stopped her advance and bit back the rest of her exclamation with a gulp. "Please," she whispered. "Please, just leave him and go away. The police and heroes will be here soon; you need to leave, without him." Tep ignored her begging. "Please! Leave him alone! Please!"

Tep reached out a hand to grab the boy, his sleeve riding up to expose the tattoos on his arm. The boy was all but crouching now, arms covering his head, audibly whimpering and sobbing and trembling like jelly. Tep felt self-loathing swell in his chest; to do this to a child was abhorrent, especially this child. He would be having words with his father next time he saw him.

Izuku watched from in between his elbows as the man with the bun came closer, his vision blurry with the quite real tears that streamed from his eyes. He counted the man's steps from the gate to him, his muscles tensing as he drew closer. He thought he saw something like sadness pass over his face, before reaching out his hand for Izuku.

'_Now!'_

Izuku unconsciously took note of the tattoos on the man's arm as he exploded up from his crouch and drove his fist into the man's crotch, snarling furiously. The man immediately doubled over, his shocked and agonised face now level with Izuku's. Without wasting a single second, the small boy spread his arms wide, as if for a hug, before smacking his cupped hands over the villain's ears. His mom had shown him that was one of the most devastating things you could do in a fight - if it didn't outright knock your opponent out, it was at least a guaranteed way to take them out of the fight. She had demonstrated with a light tap over his ear; the dizziness and ringing in his ears hadn't faded until after five minutes.

Izuku watched as the man's eyes rolled up into his head and he stumbled sideways towards the fence that separated the school from the house next door. "That's for hurting my mom, jerkface!" he shouted. He quickly glanced at the one with the gun, saw his stupefied expression and realized he had bought himself a little bit of time. He needed to get out of here. He needed to get to his mom.

"Izuku!" Mrs Kiya yelled, but he was already moving. Running towards the villain by the fence, still hunched over and clutching his abused no-no zone, Izuku leaped and used his back as a platform to jump and grab the top of the fence. He had just scrambled over when he heard the man with the gun curse and rush toward his fallen friend. Izuku landed on his side in the backyard of the house next door with a grunt, quickly scurrying to his feet and running full tilt at the fence at the other side of the yard, intending to climb over that one as well. He had to get home.

Shaipa rushed to his downed friend's side, putting the gun away as he did so. The woman had rushed inside as soon as the boy had started running. He was still processing what had just happened, replaying the events of the last few seconds in his head with no small amount of wonder. The child had manipulated them perfectly, lulling them into a false sense of security, luring them in and then springing the trap he had laid. And by Lua, had the boy made the most of it. In two quick, precise blows he had laid out one of Koa's finest warriors like a fish to dry.

'_Boanat was right,_' he thought in pleasant disbelief as he helped his partner to his feet.

"I will be fine," Tep managed to grunt out, pushing him away, his eyes wide, unfocused and filled with pain. "Go after him, I will catch up in a few seconds."

Shaipa hesitated for a second, before nodding. Eyes exploding with a brilliant green light, the air around his back started shimmering. Small refractions of light formed faint rainbows in the air that faded out as quickly as they appeared. With a mighty gust of wind, he jumped, soaring well above the fence and then continuing on past the top of the two storey school. The summit of his leap brought him another storey above that. He spotted his quarry almost immediately, climbing over the garden fence one house over. Manipulating the flow of his sunan through the glowing _'Alozi_ on his back, he spread his metaphysical wings wide and shot toward him in a controlled glide. Just before slamming into the ground, he jerked the flow from the _'Alozi_ to the _Oaka_ on his stomach and the markings all over his body began radiating soft green light, light that seeped into his muscles and further still into his bones, making them thick and dense. He hit the ground with the force of a small meteorite, facing the fence the boy was now climbing over.

Izuku yelped at the sudden and forceful impact from behind him. As he fell over the top of the fence he caught a glimpse of the villian who had pointed the gun at Mrs Kiya and felt a surge of fear; the man's eyes were glowing, like before, but now the tattoos along his arms and around his shirt collar were shining with the same light. It would have looked cool under different circumstances, but right now it made him look extremely terrifying. Landing on his feet this time, he immediately resumed his sprint to the next garden fence. He knew the train station was just two blocks from the school; if he could just outrun the two villains until then, he could sic the station guards on them while he got on a train heading north.

With an almighty crack, the fence he had just jumped over exploded in a shower of splinters. Izuku flinched and looked over his shoulder, eyes wide. The man was just lowering his leg from the kick he had used to make a hole in the fence, the glow fading from his skin, before he started running after Izuku. The boy gritted his teeth and pumped his little legs for all they worth. He couldn't let them catch him! He could _not_! He had to get to his mom! He couldn't lose her so soon after losing dad.

His narrowed gaze locked on to the fence ahead.

He would not let them take him.

XXX

Boanat's soft hum was cut off as he suddenly gasped, dropping the shirt he was folding, and clutching his chest as a wave of heat swept out from the small _ālana_ that had been flickering on and off for the past three days. This time was different, stronger than ever before, and constant. Taking his hand away from his chest, he glanced down at the light that was leaking out from under his shirt. It was as bright and unwavering as a beam of sunlight.

A massive grin split his tanned face. It seemed Tep and Shaipa had accomplished their task.

XXX

Shaipa blinked as the boy's speed suddenly increased and he began to pull away. His lips parted slightly as he reached the next fence and, instead of hauling himself over it like he had the last two, vaulted over it as if it were no more than a few feet high. Had he…?

The satellite phone in his pocket suddenly started ringing. Shaipa glanced at it and then back to the fence Izuku had just jumped. Boanat was the only person who would be calling, and there was only one reason he would call.

He had.

Shaipa grinned. They had actually succeeded! All that was left now was to get the boy back to his mother and get out of this country as fast as possible. His grin faded as he realized how difficult they made the rest of their job; no doubt the police and every _pituan_ in the region would be after them. They would be harried all the way to the coast. Things would be made a lot easier if they could get the boy to cooperate with them, but he highly doubted that anything short of Inkombi vouching for them would convince Izuku that they meant him no harm. They had really shot themselves in the foot in getting him to unlock his _Ma Ta'taoh._

Once again switching the flow of his sunan to the _Gonyama_ crouched on his left shoulder, he opted to follow the boy's example and simply go over the fence instead of through it like he had the last one. The boy was already more than halfway across the yard when he landed on the other side. "Wait!" he yelled. "We were lying! Your mother is unharmed, we haven't touched her!"

He knew the effort would more than likely be futile, and was promptly proved right as the boy completely ignored him. Shaipa sighed; he would probably need to knock the boy out. It wasn't something he wanted to do, but getting him to Inkombi and then the docks would certainly be easier if he wasn't fighting them every step of the way. Hopefully Izuku - and Inkombi - would forgive them after this was all over.

As fast as the boy was now that he had unlocked his _Ma Ta'taoh_, his speed was no match for an adult who had a far more potent and developed ability. In four ground-eating strides, he was just behind him and swinging a flattened hand at the side of his neck. To his mild surprise, the boy sensed his presence and ducked, Shaipa's hand sweeping through the hair on top of his head.

'_Good senses and instincts_,' he thought approvingly. Although he had ducked the strike, the movement caused Izuku to stumble and trip over his own feet, sending him sprawling into the dirt. '_Reflexes and coordination need work_,' he added, a wry smile on his face. Teaching this one would be fun.

As quick as a flash, he was on the boy, pulling his hands behind his back and pinning him down. Izuku bucked and wriggled in response. "Let go! Let me go, damnit!" His heart was beating like crazy, both from the mad sprint and from fear. Pressed against the ground as he was, he could feel each individual thump like a punch to his ribcage. What was he going to do now? What was the man going to do to him? The villain's earlier threat of what they would do to both him and his mother if he didn't come with them jumped to the forefront of his mind and his struggling redoubled. "Let go!" he shouted again. He had to get away. He couldn't let them do that.

It was no use. The man had him well and truly trapped, his one hand pressing Izuku's wrists into the small of his back with an iron grip. The other lifted his front off the ground by the back of his shirt. "I am really sorry," said the man, sounding like he meant it. "None of what we said is true. Your mother is perfectly healthy, and we mean you no harm." Izuku's struggling didn't lessen in the slightest; he was obviously lying. He had his mother's necklace, and he had pointed a gun at Mrs Kiya. Only villains did stuff like that!

He heard the man sigh from behind him. "I really am sorry," he apologised once more. "I hope you will forgive us when you wake up." Just as Shaipa was about to release the boy's shirt and strike his vagus nerve, two loud bangs rang out from above. Shaipa yelled in pain as two bullets tore through either one of his shoulders and knocked him off the boy. This was far from the first time he had been shot, and his quick recovery showed it. Quickly rolling to his feet, he stood in a half-crouch, his gun suddenly appearing in his hand and pointed at the person who had shot him.

"Stand down!" shouted a strangely muffled voice, as if the person were talking through a pillow.

Izuku, now free, scrambled away from the man on all fours, before glancing in the direction he was pointing his gun and freezing. Standing on the roof of the house, not ten metres from him, was Snipe, the Marksman Hero. For a moment, Izuku forgot where he was as stars appeared in his eyes. It was Snipe! He was in the presence of one of the most popular heroes in eastern Japan, and being saved by him no less! This was _after_ seeing Fourth Kind in action this morning! Two heroes in one day; boy was this a good…

His expression dropped as he remembered the exact reason why Snipe was here. The two men were staring each other down, gun barrels pointed at each other and both looking ready to pull the trigger. No, today was not a good day.

Shaipa bit back a curse. It couldn't have been more than four minutes since he had pulled his gun out. That was a damn fast response time. He would have been impressed if he hadn't just been shot.

He winced at the fire that was radiating out from the two holes in his shoulders. He shifted slightly, and counted his lucky stars that there was no stabbing sensation as he did so. He knew first-hand that any fight where splinters of bone were digging into your muscles was one you would most likely lose. They were just flesh wounds in that case; the blood was already starting to clot, a single dose of miricure would take care of the rest in no time. The muzzle of his gun didn't waver once from the strangely dressed _pituan_, though he supposed they all dressed somewhat eccentrically. Honestly, the man could have been stark naked and still Shaipa's focus wouldn't have even flickered from the two guns the man pointed at him. They looked to be custom made, as Shaipa had never seen another of their design before. They were modeled somewhat like revolvers. And they were big.

Big guns meant big bullets. Shaipa eyed them warily; the barrels looked like they were built to fire up to .357 Mag rounds, though judging by the damage they had done the bullets were smaller than that. Probably .38 specials. It didn't necessarily matter, they were obviously big enough to punch through the _Oaka's_ defence. Defeating the pituan wouldn't be as simple as just shooting him and taking whatever fire came his way, then. His eyes darted left and right; there was scant cover in his field of view, though he remembered there being a tree a few metres behind him. He also had no idea what sort of power the man possessed, though he was willing to bet they were in some way related to his weapons. He had to distract him some way - divert his attention for a millisecond, get to cover, heal his wounds and then take him down. His attention shifted to the object nestled on the inside of his vest. He would need to be quick.

Taking a steadying breath, his grip on the gun loosened as he prepared to let it go entirely. He directed the flow of his sunan to the _'Alozi_, it being the _ālana_ that granted him the greatest speed, his eyes once again beginning to glow. The muscles in his leg tensed up and he exhaled.

'_Now-_!'

"Don't even think about it," a gruff voice said from behind him. Shaipa stiffened and slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder; it had been awhile since someone had managed to sneak up on him. There was another _pituan_ behind him, large with long, spiky mint-colored hair and wearing something resembling a hockey mask with four eyepieces. He was wearing bracers shaped like revolver cylinders, and if the way he was pointing them at Shaipa's back was any indication, they weren't just for show.

Fuck, there goes that plan.

"Lower your gun - slowly! - and throw it away." The one on the roof ordered, his muffled voice tight. Shaipa complied, slowly lowering the gun so it was just above the grass and then tossing it behind him with a flick of his wrist. He hid a smile as he heard it impact the trunk of the tree.

Next it was the one behind him that spoke. "Now kneel on the ground and put your hands behind your head." Shaipa did as ordered, his eyes turned toward the ground. Snipe and Gunhead observed the man for a moment, taking in his loose posture and bowed head, before deciding that no, the villain was not likely planning any form of escape. Snipe nodded to his partner, who lowered his arm and began walking forward warily, taking a pair of quirk-suppressing cuffs from his belt. Snipe kept the barrels of his guns pointed firmly at Shaipa's chest.

Izuku, still lying in the grass a few metres away, watched the altercation as it had unfolded, slightly in awe. The heroes had shown up and not ten seconds later they had the villain kneeling in surrender. '_They're so awesome,' _he marveled. Snipe broke him out of his reverie a second later. "You alright, kid?" he asked, not looking away from the villain as Gunhead reached him and slapped one end of the handcuffs to his wrist.

It took Izuku a second to realize he was being spoken to. He blinked, before everything he needed to tell the heroes exploded out of his mouth. "I'm-I'm fine, but-but we need to get to my home! Now! They said they hurt-!"

"They?"

It was a small movement. Shaipa couldn't see the man's eyes behind his helmet, but the small tilt of Snipe's head in Izuku's direction told him that for a split second the _pituan's _attention was no longer on him. He smirked.

And chaos erupted.

Eyes glowing like greek fire, he wrenched his hands from the startled mint-haired pituan's grip and, grabbing his wrist in return, spun around the larger man's body so it was in between him and the other one's guns. Reacting on pure instinct at the explosion of movement, Snipe pulled the trigger of the gun in his right hand before he could stop himself. Cursing, he just managed to change the bullet's trajectory so that it whizzed a few inches past Gunhead's neck instead of going through it. "Run!" he shouted at the boy, who was already scrambling to his feet, eyes wide. "Get out of here!"

Izuku did as he was told, sprinting towards the wall that separated him from the street and vaulting over it as easily as he had the last one.

Shaipa, already pinning one of Gunhead's hands behind his back, reached up and wrapped his other arm around the hero's throat. Shifting from the _Gonyama_ to the _'Alozi_, he shot backwards with a single beat of his semi-invisible wings, dragging Gunhead with him. If the gurgled choking noise that he made was any indication, this maneuver was unpleasant for him. As soon as he saw the tree in his left peripheral, Shaipa released Gunhead and kicked him to the side as he dove behind the trunk. Two bullets thudded into the dirt behind him and he heard another one impact the trunk. Not wasting a second, he reached into his vest, pulled out a syringe and stabbed it into his chest, gasping as he felt the pain in his shoulders disappear and the holes begin to close. Discarding the spent syringe, he bent and scooped up his gun from where it had landed. As he did so, another gunshot rang out behind him and a bullet whizzed through the space his head had occupied and bored a hole through the wooden fence perpendicular to him.

"_Emka_," he muttered in his native language as he grabbed the object he had been preparing to use earlier. He had seen correctly the first time, the man could somehow guide his shots; bullets didn't just turn ninety degrees in midair on their own. He had to act quickly, before the _pituan_ readjusted his aim. Pulling the pin and thanking Lua flashbangs had short fuse times, he sprinted out from behind the tree and threw it with all of the _Gonyama's_ strength at the gunman running parallel to him along the rooftop. It shot through the air and, before Snipe realized what it was, exploded two feet in front of his face. Even though his helmet was built to render bright lights and sounds above a certain decibel useless, at that distance he might as well have been wearing headphones and a sleep mask. With an agonised yell, he fell down and rolled off of the roof, landing on the ground with a thud and a grunt. Shaipa dashed towards him, intent on taking him out of the fight, but was brought to a halt as two small, claw-like objects suddenly embedded themselves in his flesh.

"Stay away from him!" shouted the other _pituan_, who was now standing with one hand held against his torso and the other a closed fist extended towards him. He sounded furious. Shaipa supposed he would be too if he had been kicked in the ribcage with twenty kilonewtons of force. Reacting on instinct, he activated the _Oaka_ just in time for several more of the keratinous projectiles to bounce off of the now glowing markings on his skin. He was just about to rush the man when a green blur suddenly streaked past him and struck the man right in the middle of his four eyepieces. Gunhead stumbled backward under the force of the blow, but didn't fall. Falling would probably have been better; he now had to defend himself from a Koa warrior's furious onslaught.

Shaipa snorted, slightly derisively, as Tep finally showed up to the fight. He pulled the two bone bullets from his arm and chest, dismissing the wounds they left behind. They weren't worth using another dose of miricure. Letting go of the _Oaka_ and holstering his gun, he turned and stalked back to the groaning pituan on the ground, who, even while moaning and letting out small cries of pain, was blindly feeling around him for his guns. Shaipa unsheathed his blade and slammed the pommel into the temple of the man's broken helmet. Snipe instantly fell silent. Shaipa sighed and resheathed the weapon in a hidden pocket of his cargo pants, turning just in time to see Tep land two punches on his opponent's sternum before kicking straight upward, the tip of his steeled-toed boot catching him under the chin, just behind the edge of his mask. The man collapsed like a felled tree.

"_Where the hell were you?_" Shaipa asked gruffly. "_I would have appreciated the back-up slightly sooner._"

Tep looked indignant. A few strands of hair had escaped from his bun. "_I got here in fifteen seconds_."

"_You could have gotten here in three._"

Tep flipped him the middle one. "_You try controlling sunan after a little brat punches you in the balls and sets your head ringing like a church bell!_"

Shaipa paused, before tilting his head in grudging acceptance. "_Speaking of the boy, he unlocked his Ma Ta'taoh._"

The annoyance disappeared from Tep's face. "_Are you certain?_" he asked, and received a nod in confirmation. A grin began growing on his face, but was wiped away as the sound of sirens entered their hearing range. Sharing a glance, Shaipa lept straight up into the air once more, the light bending around two almost invisible objects behind his back. High up in the air, the neighbourhood sprawled out before him, he began looking. Gravity took hold before he had located his prey and he flapped his wings once more, grunting with the strain of actually keeping airborne; as powerful as it was, the _'Alozi_ did not grant its user true flight. The extra beat bought him a few more seconds in the air, seconds he used to frantically scan the streets snaking out away from him. There were very few people out, and most were looking around uneasily, no doubt because of the gunshots. His glowing, slitted eagle-eyes swept over them, searching.

'_Brown hair, black hair, black hair, blonde, too big, bald, no hea- There!'_

A small, green haired figure running for all he was worth away from them. Toward the train station.

Pursing his lips, Shaipa let go and plummeted to the ground.

XXX

Izuku was huffing by the time he reached the entrance to the station. He stumbled toward the crowd of people peeking their heads out from behind the concrete pillars, looking in the direction he had come from with concerned and curious faces. He would have been doing the same under normal circumstances, but involved in the situation as he was, the gunshots that had only stopped a few seconds ago had done nothing but spur him to run faster. At least the villains were beaten now; he just had to get home. To his mom.

The sound of sirens suddenly filled the air. Izuku glanced over his shoulder to see several police cruisers and a few more brightly dressed heroes appearing further down the street. They must have been there to arrest the villains. He slowed his walk until he had stopped completely, frantically wondering if it was worth running all the way back there and asking one of the heroes to take him to his house. He couldn't recognize any of them from so far away, but…

Izuku blinked. He actually _could_ recognize them from so far away. That was Present Mic, there was a sidekick of his, Vibrio, and next to him was a dark-haired man dressed in black and wearing some sort of white cloth around his neck. Izuku blinked and squinted. Were those bags underneath the man's ey-?

His marvel at such a small detail being visible from such a distance died an abrupt death as his eyes landed on two more figures. They were further up the street than the heroes and police, walking away from the commotion without so much as a backwards glance. They were one block away; Izuku caught the faint scent of blood as he gave a startled gasp. Their emerald gazes were locked on him, their pace quick and steady and their faces fixed with a calm certainty.

Izuku turned and ran through the entrance, not stopping to apologise to the people he pushed aside in his fear. One middle aged man was sent sprawling, pushed clean off his feet as the five-year-old shoved past him and ran into the station.

Somehow, twenty metres later, he managed to hear the man growl to himself over the clamor of the busy station. "Damn strength quirks. Brats these days have no sense of control."

Even as he heard it, Izuku disregarded the words. He was too busy trying to work out how the two villains had gotten away. '_How? Snipe and Gunhead were there, they couldn't have beaten them! Snipe's the twenty third ranked hero in the country, no way they beat them!'_ And yet he had just seen them walking toward him, with no one in pursuit. Could they really be that strong? There hadn't been a doubt in his mind that the heroes had won the fight when the gunshots had stopped, yet it appeared the opposite was true. He shivered; it had been a short fight.

He could see the tracks up ahead, past the few shops and kiosks. Thankfully there was a train there, with people piling on board. He stopped for a moment as he tried to decipher the kanji scrolling past above the doors, and breathed a sigh of relief as he recognised the characters for Fudoro Street, which he knew was the closest station to his house. What luck!

"Hey!" The shout was accompanied by a hand on his shoulder and with a gasp Izuku jumped away from it, turning to face the person with raised arms and wild eyes. He relaxed upon seeing it was a station guard.

"Whoa! Take it easy there kid, I'm not going to hurt you," the woman said raising her hands in a placating manner. Her eyes studied him with a soft frown on her face. "What's going on? Are you oka-?"

"Two villains are trying to kidnap me!" He blurted out.

She paused, her frown deepening, and asked, "What?"

"Those gunshots just now, that-that was them! They came to my school and-and said they had my mom, and that I needed to come with them, and they tried to grab me, but I ran and they chased me-"

The lady crouched down and held him by his arms. "Okay, okay, slow down a bit. You need to calm down," she said soothingly, keeping eye contact with him. Izuku felt his panic and fear start to ebb a bit. "I need you to tell me exactly-"

She didn't get to finish her sentence. Just then Izuku spotted the two men pushing their way through the crowd near the entrance and all his terror came rushing back. "There!" He yelled, pointing. The guard turned to look, as did several commuters around them. "That's them!" With that he tore himself out of the woman's grip and dashed for the train, ignoring her calls for him to wait. When he didn't, she gave up and turned her attention to the two men he had pointed out. They certainly looked imposing, and their gazes were fixed on the small boy as he ran away. She stiffened as she noticed the slight bulges in their clothing; she had been a station guard for a number of years and had learnt to recognise concealed weapons. From what she could see, these men were armed to the teeth.

She placed a hand on her sidearm and used the other to call for backup on her radio, all the while moving to intercept the two men. The people who had been standing close enough to hear what Izuku had said took one look at the station guard obviously preparing for trouble and started hurrying away. Others caught her focused gaze, saw her hand on her gun and got out of her way, looking to see what had her attention. She made eye contact with the two men and their eyes narrowed into fierce glares before glancing at each other.

Tep and Shaipa knew they couldn't afford to waste time. It wouldn't take their pursuers long to figure out where they had gone; they needed to keep moving.

The guard hesitated for a moment as they switched their focus from the boy to her. Her grip tightened on the handle of her gun; she instinctively knew how this was going to go. She stopped three meters from them and held her hand out for them to do the same. "Sirs, I'm going to have to ask you to-"

They had paused briefly at her outstretched hand, before the taller one darted forward and slammed the pommel of a large decorative blade into her head, which he had drawn from the inside of his green military jacket in the blink of an eye. The only thing the guard saw before her consciousness left her was a verdant blur. The crowd around them let out exclamations and a few screams as they rushed away from the two men. The two Koa warriors immediately singled out the similarly dressed guards pushing through the surging crowd with weapons drawn, as well as the few bystanders that looked like they were ready to try and stop them. The two dismissed both parties almost immediately; neither were a threat. Shaipa activated the '_Alozi_ and leaped over the heads of those still in between them and the train, while Tep flooded the _Kelēnd_ with _sunan_ and blurred through the gaps in the crowd. He reached the train first, naturally; the _Kelēnd_ was unrivaled in speed, and he unrivaled in the use of _Kelēnd_.

Despite this, he was still too late. The train doors slid shut, and began to pull away from the station when he was just a few metres away. If he had been a bit quicker, he could have pried the doors open with the Oaka's strength, but now all he could do was stare at the wide-eyed boy through the glass as the train rapidly accelerated away. Shaipa landed next to him a second later and the two spent a moment staring as the train disappeared into the sunlight, before sharing an exasperated glance and jumping onto the tracks and running after it, the shouts of the pursuing station guards fading behind them. They both knew neither the _'Alozi_ nor the _Kelēnd_ could match the train, but they had the stamina to follow it to the next station or two.

"_You know, he's actually making good time by himself,_" Shaipa commented as their feet thudded against the wooden sleepers. "_I doubt we would have gotten him there faster if we _had_ taken him ourselves._"

Taipa gave an amused huff in response. "_We wouldn't have had to do all this running either._"

His friend grinned and said, "_Little trouble maker. He is certainly his mother's son._"

Tep winced as his still-aching nethers were jostled by the movement of his legs.

"_He's got a fair amount of his father in him too."_

XXX

It took Inko longer than she would have liked to admit to realize someone else had been in her house. Only three minutes after walking through the door, arms laden with shopping bags, did her instincts start telling her something was wrong. Only after unpacking all the groceries and plugging in her phone to charge. In that time, whoever it was could have killed her forty times over in numerous different ways, and that was unacceptable.

To be fair, there really was nothing to indicate she should be concerned. The door had still been locked when she had arrived. As her narrowed eyes swept around the kitchen and living room, they saw nothing out of place. Everything was exactly as she and Izuku had left it this morning, yet that nagging feeling persisted. As she moved from the kitchen into the living room to look more closely, she found herself falling into a smooth, gliding step, one she hadn't used since she left the island. Knees bent, walking on the balls of her feet and not making so much as sound. It was a subtle difference in the way she held herself, but there was now indisputably a sharp-eyed predator where a housewife had been a second before. She unraveled her sealed _Ta'taoh_ as she stalked forward, eyes flaring like a cat's meeting light. She spotted it almost immediately; a tiny speck of earth, barely more than a grain of sand, on the wooden boards, and another a metre away. In fact, there was actually a small trail leading from the front door into the apartment.

Eyes narrowing, she directed her _sunan_ to the _Tshiso_ along her spine, strengthening her sense of smell as far as it would go, which honestly wasn't all that much.

It was, however, enough to pick up the smell that lingered in the air.

'_Fuck.'_

She stiffened; that wasn't a scent she had encountered in nearly seven years. All but sprinting into the kitchen, still impossibly silent, she grabbed the carving knife and cleaver from the knife block next to the stove. A feeling that was disturbingly close to panic flitted at the back of her mind; while she couldn't pick out individual scents like her father could, the unmistakable smell of the jungle permeated the air; the smell of home. A Koa had been in her house, and probably still was. She didn't know why, but all the possible reasons that flew through her mind weren't good.

_'Izuku.'_

That one possibility was the sole reason for her feeling of panic.

Cleaver in her right hand, carving knife held in a reverse-grip in her left, she started down the passage that led to the bedrooms and bathroom. Four of her five senses were heightened with the passive boost given to her by her _Ma Ta'taoh_, while her sense of touch was sent to absurd levels as she flooded the _Tshipu_ with _sunan_. Her skin prickled and her hairs stood on end. She stood still for a second as she felt the air around her and the floor beneath her feet. Other than her soft breaths and the natural air currents coming down the passage, the wind told her nothing. There was no movement. The floorboards concurred; other than the ambient noise coming from the rest of the building and outside, they were still. No vibrations - nothing.

Inko started to relax, but only slightly. Whoever it was was most likely gone, but on the off chance they weren't, she was going to have a tough opponent on her hands. She started off down the passage again, kitchen knives held at the ready. They were poor matches for a Koa blade, but it was better than going unarmed. She passed the bathroom and guest room without incident, but was startled by a sudden shift in the air currents as she neared Izuku's room. She strained her ears and nose, but neither indicated there was anyone in there. She crept up to the corner and, after pausing for a moment to ready herself, whirled around the corner, ready to confront whoever had invaded her home.

It was empty.

After a moment of standing there in the doorway, she let out a barely audible sigh and lowered her weapons slightly. Izuku had left his window open a crack, a gap no wider than a matchstick, but big enough to let in a breeze that had disturbed the air currents. She was just about to leave the room when her eyes landed on Izuku's bed and she froze. There, spread out over the All Might themed duvet, were piles of her son's clothes, while more were neatly lying inside a navy blue wheelie bag. Her breath hitched. They had been packing a bag for him. The process was only halfway done, but she knew what it meant.

They meant to take him away.

They were here for her son.

Horror, fear and anger tried to take her over, but she ruthlessly banished them to her subconscious, where they would serve as nothing more than fuel for her concentration. A second later her warrior instincts took over and took notice of something her maternal ones had skipped over.

The process was only halfway done.

The air suddenly roiled violently and the floor boards shook, and almost before she realized what was happening, her body was spinning to the left in response to the stimuli, knives rising. She reacted too late though, and a fist crashed into her jaw with power well beyond what a normal human was capable of. She stumbled backwards, back down the passage, head ringing like a bell. She tried to jump away, to put some space between her and her attacker, but the other person was faster and landed a kick and another punch on her leg and face respectively. Inko stumbled back a few more steps, before her sense of balance left her and she fell on her back in the living room, groaning in pain, the knives clattering out of her hand. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool and the muscles in her leg were spasming in pain from where the Koa had kicked her.

She heard a mocking scoff and footsteps walking toward her. She tried lifting her head to see who it was, but her vision was still swimming.

"_Come now, Inkombi. You're better than that."_

Her eyes widened. Her ears, other than a slight ringing, were working just fine; she would recognise that voice anywhere.

Waving her hand around in the air, she latched onto the arm of the couch and pulled herself to her feet, fear and anger rapidly clearing her head. She looked at the man who stood across from her with an amused, cocky smirk and his bare, tattooed arms folded over his chest as he waited for her to get up.

Gods, she hated his face.

After a second the smirk faded and was replaced by a soft smile. "_It is good to see you. I've missed you. We all have."_

She met his smile with a fiery green glare.

"_You shouldn't have come here, father."_

**AN: Hey guys. Long wait, I know, but also a long chapter. Interesting times we live in nowadays. School has been closed indefinitely, and for the most part I'm responsible for my own education. Since this is my Matric Year (Senior year for you Yanks) I'm quite anxious to do well, so a lot of my day is taken up by studying.**

**Anyway, there are two reviews to the last chapter that I'd like to give a shout-out to:**

**tiguylerobot: Your review cracked me up.**

**Zamboned: Thanks for pointing me toward the Mark of Kri for inspiration.**

**Now, someone asked about pairings. This will be a harem. The members, save one, have not been decided yet, so if there is someone you want in it, let me know in a review.**

**Lastly, someone wanted to know what language I was using for the words in Italics. It is one I have made up, the bastard child of Hawaiian and Xhosa. Since you can't simply co and search the meaning of these words, i have followed this person's suggestion and provided a glossary.**

**_Ta'taoh_ \- What the Koa call their quirk.**

**_Ma Ta'taoh_ \- The source of the _Ta'taoh_. Apon first awakening the _Ta'taoh_, it grants a passive boost to all physical abilities and senses. All other powers stem from the _Ma Ta'taoh_. The image it takes is unique to all individuals.**

**_Ha'alukah_ \- Endearing term for a romantic partner. Roughly translates to "Holder of my life".**

**_Sunan_ \- The energy used to power the _Ta'taoh_.**

**_Ālana_ \- Refers to the individual pictograms that make up the _Ta'taoh_. Each represents a different power.**

**_'Alozi_ \- Eagle.**

**_Oaka_ \- Bear.**

**_Gonyama_ \- Panther.**

**_Kelēnd_ \- Hare.**

**_Tshiso_ \- The ālana associated with the sense of smell.**

**_Tshipu_ \- The ālana associated with the sense of touch.**

**_Inkāne ulu yomele. Makou pono na hamba_ \- The boy is growing stronger. We need to act quickly.**

**_Shiam_ \- Connection.**

**_Pituan_ \- Koa word for heroes. Roughly translates to "Debt holder."**

**_Um Hoabo _\- My friend.**

**I think that's everything. Let me know if I forgot anything.**

**Cheers!**


	5. From Concrete to Canopy

From Concrete to Canopy

Inko slowly moved over to where the kitchen knives had fallen, half crouched and tense. Boanat watched with a small smile, making no move to stop her. Eyes flaring, she covered the remaining space between her and her weapons with a quick lunge, scooping them up and brandishing them at the man across from her. They now stood at opposite ends of the room, the gap between the couch and dining table forming a path between them. Her father eyed the cooking utensils with amusement, raising his hand slightly to bring attention to his own blade. It was decidedly more impressive.

"_Kanisegan_?"

"I'm only going to warn you once." Inko glared. She was in no mood for banter. "Get out, and don't ever come back."

Boanat's slight smile faded. "This is not the reunion I was expecting," he said in Japanese, deciding to humor her.

"This isn't a reunion. Leave."

Her demand was ignored. "What else is father and daughter meeting again after seven years if not a reunion?"

Inko didn't bother repeating herself. Bending her legs, she launched herself at her father, a furious expression on her face. Her steps were light and soft, her bare feet making virtually no sound as she rushed forward. Boanat immediately slid into a defensive stance. Instead of rushing straight at him, Inko instead jumped off the backrest of the couch and flipped so she was upside down. Eyes glowing, the soles of her feet touched the wooden ceiling and stuck, preventing her from falling. After taking a moment to reorientate herself, Inko resumed her advance, running upside down along the ceiling as easily as she would along the ground.

Other than a slight frown, Boanat remained unfazed. Retreating, he dodged her opening slash with the cleaver and caught her follow up swipe with the knife on his own blade. The kitchen steel snapped easily, most of the blade flying off in the direction of the TV. Undeterred, Inko flung what was left of the carving knife at his face before spinning, her dangling pony tail flaring out distractingly. In the middle of her spin she detached one foot from the ceiling and sent it slashing through the air in an upside down roundhouse kick. Boanat just barely managed to duck beneath it.

His lips twitched upward. She had lost none of her flexibility. If he had tried that, even standing upright, he would have torn something.

He felt his back hit the edge of the kitchen counter. Grabbing blindly in the direction the scent of salt came from, his fist closed around cold ceramic. The pupils of his glowing eyes narrowing into slits, he threw the white salt shaker at Inko's head with incredible accuracy. She saw it coming too late and it struck a glancing blow on her forehead. Grunting, she retreated. Boanat didn't pursue. For several seconds, father and daughter eyed each.

"Why are we fighting, Inkombi?"

"You're not taking him," she hissed. "You made me a promise. Don't think for a second I'm just going to let you break it!"

She rushed at him again, swishing her head so that her pony tail flared out and blocked his vision before sending out a flurry of kicks and slashes with the cleaver. She would periodically switch her point of contact with the ceiling, shifting from fighting upside down to letting loose a series of kicks while dangling from her palms. Boanat was forced into a retreat, navigating his way around the furniture as he did his best to avoid her attacks. He managed to parry or dodge most of them, but a few kicks managed to slip past his guard. Inko even managed to make a small cut on his shoulder.

Boanat was impressed. He had expected his daughter's skills to have dulled after all this time, but if anything they had grown.

Losing some of his playfulness, he allowed the next strike with the cleaver to hit him. The blade hit his arm, but instead of drawing blood it bounced off the _Oaka's_ defence with a metallic clang. The rebound threw Inko off balance, giving Boanat an opening. Grabbing that irritating hair of hers, he gave a hard downwards yank, eliciting a cry from her. After a moment of resistance, she redirected the flow of her _sunan_ from the _anagwu_ to the _gonyama_ and dropped from the ceiling. Tucked into a ball, she twisted in midair and then straightened with explosive force, body parallel to the ground and feet rocketing towards her father's chest. He casually sidestepped and the attack missed completely.

Now at gravity's mercy, Inko was left with no other choice than to fall flat on her back, the blunted and twisted cleaver once again jumping out of her grip. Boanat picked it up and threw it down the passage, before regarding her with a frown. He tucked his blade into its sheath underneath the back of his shirt.

"I have kept my promise, _kaikintomba_," he said as he watched her climb to her feet, coughing. "You are the one not honoring our bargain."

Instead of responding she attacked him again, punching twice and kicking at his midsection. He parried each attack with large, sweeping arm motions, causing Inko to cry out in pain. She jumped back and grimaced at the sight of her scraped and bloody arms. The material of her pants around the shin was frayed and torn from where he had parried her kick, the skin underneath little better. She really fucking hated when her father used the _ukrēgo_; it made hand-to-hand combat with him impossible.

That didn't matter. She couldn't let him take Izuku. He wouldn't survive on Lua, not without a quirk. The island would chew him up and spit out his bloody, broken remains for her to weep over, and she didn't think she could survive that. When she had lost her mother, she'd had Hisashi. When Hisashi had died, she'd had Izuku. If she lost her son, she'd have no one.

She was not going to lose her son.

She grabbed one of the dining chairs and swung it at him with a grunt, ta'taoh glowing green with the oaka's strength. Activating the oaka himself, Boanat swatted it away as if it were no more than a bothersome fly. The cheap, laminated wood broke into pieces, conveniently leaving Inko holding the two wooden struts that made up the back rest. She didn't get the chance to use her improvised weapons; Boanat was done humoring her.

Activating the _kelēnd_, he dashed forward faster than Inko could react and drove his fist into her stomach. She still had the _oaka_ active, so the damage was negligible, but the strike distracted her and pushed her off balance. Boanat used that moment of vulnerability to rip the two pieces of wood out of her grip and unleash a series of blinding strikes on her. Not letting her recover from the back foot, he swung the improvised clubs at her ankles and knees, putting her further off balance and causing her to stumble back. A split second later the wood cracked against her ribs and left wrist, then the side of her head, then her hips. Boanat was unrelenting, striking her almost at will. Each hit came within a split second of the last, slowly chipping away at her concentration, and as her control of sunan began to falter, the _oaka's_ defence.

Inko tried to defend and counter, and when that failed, retreat, but her father was much stronger and had much more experience. He maneuvered around any defence she tried to put up and didn't give her the chance to put any sort of distance between them. Eventually the inevitable happened and Boanat struck her across the face hard enough to make her fully lose her hold of the oaka. Her defence broke completely. Boanat was on her in an instant, sweeping her feet from under her and sending her to the ground. Before she had a chance to regain her senses enough to direct _sunan_, he was sitting on her back, just above her hips, and pinning her spread arms to the ground by her elbows.

It was over. They both knew it, but Inko struggled regardless, bucking and twisting in an effort to wriggle loose. It was no use; the oaka not only increased a Koa's strength, but their weight as well. It was like being pinned underneath a boulder. None of the _ālana_ she possessed would give her the strength to overcome her father. He had the same powers as her, and then some, and was more proficient with their use than she could ever hope to be.

"Stop this, Inkombi," he growled, eyes shining. Her efforts didn't diminish in the slightest. "_Yeka_!"

Still nothing.

He scowled down at her back. Why was she fighting so hard? He had anticipated some resistance, but nothing near this level.

He gave up trying to talk to her and simply sat on her back, waiting for her to tire herself out. He didn't know whether to be impressed or exasperated when she finally gave up two minutes later. Despite how her body went slack beneath him, he didn't ease up on her. She had beaten him like that once before.

"What is going on, _kaikintomba_? Why are you so determined to keep him from us?"

She remained stubbornly silent.

"Is it because of Hisashi?"

Just when he thought she was going to ignore him indefinitely, she mumbled something into the floorboards. Even Boanat's Koa ears failed to make out what she said, it was so soft.

"_Hetoni?"_

"He's quirkless. Izuku's quirkless. He doesn't have the _ta'taoh_."

Boanat stared down at her back blankly as he tried to decipher what she had just said. Quirkless? That wasn't possible. The _shiam_ had been all but screaming at him for the past week.

"Please, you can't take him," Inko begged, unaware of her father's bewilderment. "He won't survive on Lua. Please, just leave! I can't lose him too!"

Boanat gaped; the desperation and fear in her voice was real. Did she honestly not know?.

"Inkombi," he said slowly. "The boy has the _ta'taoh_. He unlocked-"

He was cut off by a savage yell. He barely had time to lift his head before a seething, writhing ball of rage was upon him.

XXX

Izuku started running the second the doors opened. People let out little exclamations of surprise as they were pushed aside by the small boy. He paid them no heed, running through the station doors and out into the street. He knew how to get to his house from here - it was to the right and just up the hill.

The steep inclination didn't do much to slow him down, but by the time he reached the top he was sweating and out of breath. His heart thumped painfully in his chest. He chanced a glance behind him; nothing. He had briefly seen the two villains chasing the train from the back car, before they inevitably fell behind and disappeared from view. He had fought his way to the front of the train, pushing through the crowd and dodging the few concerned citizens who had seen the rather disturbing circumstances surrounding his boarding.

It seemed he'd lost them, but he didn't feel safe. He had thought they were gone before, and then he'd seen them just strolling toward him as if nothing were wrong. As if they hadn't just beaten two powerful heroes in a fight.

Izuku shivered and carried on, his pace not slowing. He was close; he could see his apartment building from here.

He blinked and squinted.

Actually, he could see his _door_ from here. The blue one, up on one of the middle floors; he could just barely make out the two brass numbers that were nailed to its front.

He ran faster. Nothing looked wrong, but he wouldn't feel safe until he was back with his mom. He was scared, mostly for her. He had to help her; make sure she was okay and that whatever the villains had done to her was taken care of. After another ten minutes of on and off sprinting, he finally reached his destination, running through the gates and straight to the open staircase that zig-zagged its way up the side of the building. He got half way to his floor before the strain became too much and he walked the rest of the way up, huffing and puffing. On the very last landing, he paused for a few moments to regain his breath and happened to look out over the railing. A thrill of fear went through him.

There they were. They had just crested the hill, running much faster then he had. How? He had been on a train!

The one in the blue vest paused for a second, before lifting his head and looking straight at Izuku. The boy gasped; they were still a long way away, but even so, he could see the two green dots that made up his eyes. He pushed away from the railing and flew up the remainder of the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. He skidded to a stop in front of the door and frantically yanked on the door handle. Locked. Throwing the welcome mat aside, he grabbed the spare key from beneath it and jammed it into the lock, before twisting it and throwing the door open.

"Mo-!"

He reached the end of the passage before he could finish the word. There was a man in his home, a man that he'd never seen before. He looked a lot like the taller of the two villains, but older; his tanned skin was weathered and his green hair was greying at the temples. Tattoos covered his arms and the skin around his shirt collar, the same ones he had seen beneath the sleeves of the green jacket. Izuku immediately knew he was with them.

And he was pinning his mother to the floor. His mother, who had blood on her arms and right leg, was pinned to the red-spotted floor.

Izuku threw himself at the man, howling with rage. He caught a glimpse of surprise on his face before his fist crashed into the side of it. The man was thrown off his mother with a grunt, and Izuku's next three swings passed through the space he had occupied. Undeterred, he pounced on the villain and started raining down blows on him. These weren't the strong, structured strikes his mother had taught him; all technique and discipline was abandoned in favor of wild punches that had little but fury and ferocity behind them. For every hit that landed, another missed, and even then, the ones that found their target were ineffectual.

Izuku was relentless though, laying into the man while shouting wordless rage. He only paused to pick up the wooden stick lying a metre away, before beginning to beat the villain with heavy two-handed swings, letting out loud grunts with each one.

"Izuku!"

He carried on, not even slowing down.

"Izuku, stop!"

Hands pulled him away from the man. He struggled against them, thrashing about in a vain attempt to resume killing the asshole who had dared touch his mother. The hands grabbed either side of his face and turned it so he was looking into his mother's wide eyes. They had a calming effect on him, and after a second of staring, his snarl was replaced by relief and he threw himself into his mother's arms.

"Mommy!"

Boanat slowly lowered his arms from his face, the glow slowly fading from his tattoos, and saw Inko's stunned expression. Before she could return the hug, Izuku broke away and started panicking over her injuries.

"You're hurt!" he grabbed her arm and yanked it toward his face. "Are you okay? How bad is it? Is it bad? What happe-?"

"Izuku!"

Inko yanked her arm from her son's grip and once again turned his face toward hers. He blinked at her expression.

Inko gaped like a fish, struggling to comprehend what she was seeing. She didn't know how to react. All she could do was stare in disbelief as she looked into his eyes.

His green, glowing eyes.

Letting go off his face, she grabbed the hem of his shirt and ripped it upwards, Izuku squeaking in protest. She gasped at what she saw. There, in the centre of his chest, sat the pitch black image of a tree. The entire symbol was comprised of thick, black lines. Its many roots were spread wide, snaking around one another in a tight, sinuous network, before joining up to form the column of the trunk. The lines drifted upward, snaking left and right and twisting themselves into knots until they held some geometric resemblance to bark. From there the branches formed; the lines once again spread outward as they had done at the roots, thick lines tapering to points while thinner lines coiled into intricate little spirals. The limbs and leaves of the tree. The entire symbol was only a bit smaller than her palm.

And it wasn't the only one.

Among the roots, there was one line that was thicker than the rest. It snaked downward, past its brethren, to join to the incredibly detailed body of a panther, crouched just beneath his sternum and looking ready to pounce on the boy's belly button. It was still glowing a faint green, though quickly reverting to black.

The _gonyama_.

"Mom! Mom, what are you-?"

The struggling Izuku finally managed to peek his head around the front of his shirt, which his mother had been inadvertently pushing into his face. He stopped when he saw her stunned expression. Following her gaze, he gawked at what he found spread across the skin of his torso. Where had _that_ come from?

"Believe me now?"

Izuku's head whipped to the side. The villain was sitting against the backrest of the couch, one arm supporting him while the other rested on top of his knee. He showed no sign of being affected by Izuku's attacks, and wore a brilliant smile.

Izuku snarled and went to hit the stupid, oddly happy villain in his stupid, oddly happy face again, but was stopped when his mother suddenly lept to her feet and scooped him into her arms with a happy cry. Laughing joyously, she spun him around the room while shouting something he couldn't understand.

"_Yena inia 'n wahkulé! _Izuku_, wena inia 'n wahkulé! Makou hezikon ungangah!"_

Izuku squawked as she threw him up into the air. What on earth was wrong with her? There was a villain right there! He caught sight of the tattoos around her wrist and throat. His insides went cold; had the man done something to her?

Just as suddenly as she had picked him up, she set him down and ran over to where the villain was now standing. Still laughing, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He laughed too and hugged her back.

Izuku watched, bewildered, from where he had been unceremoniously dumped. What the heck was going on?

"Mom?"

Inko pulled away from the man and looked over at him. Still grinning, she walked over to him and knelt, taking both his hands in hers. Izuku recoiled slightly, confused and a little frightened. He had never seen his mother act like this.

"Izuku," she said, "you have a quirk."

He stared at her. No he didn't.

She lifted his shirt and gently poked his chest where the two tattoos met. "You have a quirk, abanti. My quirk." She pulled up the sleeves of her shirt to expose her _ta'taoh_ to his wide eyes. Her head turned to look to where her father stood. "_Our_ quirk."

Izuku's eyes flicked between his mother's arms and the man whose status as a villain he was starting to question. What was happening? Was that really his mom's quirk? Whenever he had asked her, she had just said she could make her eyes light up. As he had never seen her do anything other than that, he'd believed her.

His mind flashed back to when the villain in the blue jacket had fallen from the sky. His eyes had been glowing just like he'd seen his mother's do. He looked down at his chest, at the two pictures that had somehow appeared on his skin. Was… was this real? Did he really have a quirk?

He flashed back to all the weird things that had happened. The sudden strength of his senses, the people he had pushed off their feet in the train station, the fact that he'd practically sprinted all the way here and now this tattoo on his chest. He had been focused on running from the villains before, so he hadn't paid particular attention to these things, but now…

His fingers brushed against the skin. It tingled.

"But, the doctor said-"

"The doctor was wrong!" Inko grabbed his arms and pressed her forehead to his, looking straight into his eyes. "I wouldn't lie to you about this, _abanti_. I promise you, you have a quirk."

Izuku stared at her brilliant green orbs. "I have a quirk," he muttered quietly, sounding as if he were testing the words. "I have a quirk." The corners of his mouth turned upwards as a grin began to grow. "I have a quirk. I have a quirk!"

He began jumping up and down, unable to contain his happiness. "I have a quirk! I have a quirk! I have a quirk!"

Inko held his hands and jumped along with him, laughing. Boanat watched on fondly, paying particular attention to Izuku. This was the first time he had seen his grandson outside of pictures. He looked very much like his father, but the boy's Koa blood was undeniable. He would have no trouble fitting in with the other little ones on the island.

Izuku suddenly stopped, eyes wide, and began to practically vomit words.

"What is it? What does it do? Is it cool? Is it? Is it? Is it?" He bounced on the balls of his feet, eyes shining. "Why is your tattoo bigger than mine? Why is it a tattoo? Is it powerful? Can I-?"

Boanat burst out laughing. "You are certainly Hisashi's son, _mopuna_. I have never met anyone else who could say so much in so little time."

Whatever questions he still had died in Izuku's throat. He eyed the man warily while moving closer to his mother, sending surreptitious glances to the wooden stick he had dropped earlier. He looked between his mother and the man, hesitated, then turned to face him.

"Who are you?"

Boanat looked to Inko with raised eyebrows. Sighing, she knelt beside her son and held him gently by his arms. "You don't need to be afraid of him, _abanti_. He isn't going to hurt us." Izuku scowled and pointed accusingly to her arm before sending another suspicious glance at the man, who gave him a broad grin in return. Izuku's eyes narrowed; whether he was a villain or not, this guy was a weirdo.

Inko smiled softly. "Watch," she said, using her left arm to wipe the blood from her right. Izuku's nose wrinkled at the strong smell. The wound was a lot less serious than it had looked at first; it was barely more than a scrape. Izuku blinked as, before his eyes, the edges of the wound slowly crept inwards, healthy, undamaged skin taking its place.

"We heal faster than normal people," Inko said, smirking. "It is one of the abilities of the _ta'taoh_."

Seeing he was about to launch another slew of questions, she quickly changed the subject. "I promise, abanti, I will explain everything later. Right now, I want to introduce you to someone very important to me." She gestured to Boanat. "Izuku, this is Boanat Khafum. He's my father." His head whipped around to gape at her. She smiled. "Your grandfather."

Izuku was speechless. She was joking, wasn't she? He didn't have a grandad. If he did, then surely she would have told him. Surely they would have met before now. No, it couldn't be.

Yet as he rubbernecked between his mother and the man she claimed was her father, uncertainty began to grow. With each pass between the two, their resemblance became more and more apparent. Their hair, their eyes, the shape of their noses. Their _grins_. He had never seen his mother grin like she was grinning now; it was full of mischief and mirth. His gaze finally settled on Boanat. Was he really his grandfather?

Boanat approached Izuku as if he were a small, frightened animal that would bolt if he made any sudden movements, which, honestly, wasn't far from the truth. Kneeling and holding out his hand, he gave the boy a soft smile.

"I have waited for this day a long time, _mopuna_. It is good to finally meet you."

For a long time, Izuku just stared at him as if he were an alien. Then, hesitantly, he reached out and shook his hand. His mind was in a daze. He had a granddad?

He blinked. If this guy was with the other two…

"Are… are you a v-villain?"

It concerned him greatly when Boanat didn't immediately answer in the negative. Father and daughter exchanged glances. He sent her a look that pleaded with her to take charge of explaining this one, and got an unimpressed eyebrow in return. She inclined her head to her son, indicating he was on his own. With a slight grimace, he turned back to the anxious five-year-old.

"There are people who think we are villains, but we are not. We are not evil." He pursed his lips. "But we are not friends with heroes either."

"Then the other two- "

Inko looked up sharply. "Others?" For the first time, she seemed to wonder why Izuku was there instead of at school. She squinted at her father, who had developed a sudden interest in the fridge. "What did you do, _umkhulu_?"

"Well…"

He was saved from having to answer when Tep and Shaipa suddenly burst into the apartment, out of breath and sweating. Izuku instantly dived for the chair strut and scooped it up, brandishing it at the two with glowing eyes. Whether these people were with his… his grandfather or not, they had tried to kidnap him and had pointed a gun at Mrs Kiya. They had fought with heroes, and no matter what Boanat said, that made them villains. There was no way he was just going to-

"Tep!"

With another happy laugh, his mother threw her arms around the taller of the two and pulled him into a hug. He seemed shocked for a moment, then laughed along with her and returned the hug. The strut in Izuku's hand drooped, as did his jaw. His mother was hugging the guy with the girly hair, the one that had tried to kidnap him not even half an hour ago. She knew him.

"My word, you've grown! You're taller than father now!"

She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. It was something that she did often for Izuku, a fact the small boy was quite indignant about. That was _his_ mom, this jerk could go get his own to do that.

"It is good to see you again, Inkombi," said the girly-haired jerk of a villain. His mom was wearing her biggest grin yet, and it got even bigger as she turned to the other man.

"And Shaipa! You haven't grown at all!" She laughed as he muttered something Izuku couldn't understand under his breath, yet he embraced her with a soft smile.

Boanat eyed the two's panting, sweaty forms with crossed arms and an abundance of amusement. "It seems the two of you met a worthy match," he said, glancing at the tiny, slack-jawed five-year-old.

Just like that, all the attention was back on him. His mother skipped - skipped! - over to him, letting out a little giggle along the way. Izuku stared at her in horror. When had she become so _girly_?

"Abanti, these two are also people who are very important to me." She gestured to the shorter man, the one in the blue vest. "This is Shaipa Aptur, a close childhood friend of mine."

Shaipa gave a weak wave, and winced when he got a venomous glare in return.

Not noticing the exchange, Inko moved onto the other one, who Izuku gave an even uglier look while moving closer to her in a possessive manner. "And this is Tep Khafum." She smiled down at him. "He's my brother, Izuku. Your uncle."

The wooden strut fell out of Izuku's suddenly loose grip, the glare on his face disappearing in favor of a gobsmacked expression. More family? He had an uncle too? Could this day get any stranger?

With this revelation, all the stress, shock and chaotic emotion of the last hour finally overwhelmed him. Too much was happening too fast. He didn't know what to think or believe. Was this even real? A dream maybe? A nightmare? Mind reeling with all that was happening, Izuku could only blurt out the first thought that came to mind, that thought being his disbelief.

"But they tried to kidnap me!" He yelled, pointing. How could he be related to people like that? "That one pointed a gun at Mrs Kiya!"

Inko stared at him blankly for a second, before whirling around to face the nervous looking men.

"You did what!?"

Tep, with fear born from a shared childhood with his sister, instinctively resorted to a tried and true tactic of displacing her anger.

"_It was father's idea!_" He said quickly, pointing at the man in question.

Inko turned her wrath on him. "You did _what_!?"

Boanat sent his son a brief scowl as his mind tried to work out the best way to calm her down. Thankfully, he was saved from having to answer when all four adults suddenly heard the sound of police sirens in the distance. Inko didn't miss the way her brother and Shaipa tensed and shared grave looks.

"What did you do?" she whispered.

Boanat, his expression suddenly serious, waved her question away as he hurried toward the passage. "That does not matter. We need to leave. Now. I've already packed your bag, but Izuku's- "

"Leave?" Everyone turned to look at Izuku's startled expression. "What do you mean leave?"

All three men glanced at Inko. She wore a conflicted expression on her face, looking from them, to her son, to the direction of the distant sirens. Izuku could hear them now.

"_Inkombi_," Boanat said slowly, his eyes narrowing. There was a note of warning in his voice. "_You made me a promise, as I made you one. I have kept mine, it is time to keep yours. It is time for you to come home._" He looked at his grandson. "Both of you."

Izuku, who had been unable to understand anything but the last part, had a confused and anxious expression on his face. Inko still looked conflicted. She opened her mouth to say something, hesitated, then closed it. She walked over to Izuku and knelt before him, taking his hands in hers. The serious look on her face made him nervous.

"Izuku," she said. "There's a place far, far away from here. It's a beautiful place, with forests and mountains and lots of beaches. Before I came to Japan, it was my home." She bit her lip. "I need you to make a choice, _abanti_. We can go there now, but if we do, we're going to have to stay there." She gestured around them. "We're going to have to leave all this behind."

Izuku stared at her. This was just too much for the poor boy. What was she talking about? What was _happening_?

"We-we're… moving?" he stuttered. That was as best as he could understand it.

"Only if you want to, _abanti_."

Boanat made a noise that caused her to shoot him a venomous look, before turning back to her son. "We can stay here if you want, but if we do, they will leave and we won't ever see them again." She pointed over to the three men. "They can teach you to use your quirk, Izuku, better than I can. They can take us to a beautiful, wonderful place where there are other children just like you. They can take us to the rest of our family and help me teach you to fight, to become a hero, but if we go, we have to leave everything we have here, and we won't be able to come back for a long time." She held his gaze. "What do you want to do, _abanti_?"

He stared at her, speechless.

The sirens were getting steadily louder. Inko glanced over her shoulder, an anxious expression on her face. "You need to decide now, Izuku."

Decide? How was he supposed to do that? What was the right choice? He looked around. This was all he'd ever known; could they really just abandon all of it so suddenly? Everything they had was here, this was their home. And Kacchan. They'd just become friends again. He didn't want to lose that.

But if they stayed…

He looked at his mom and the men standing behind her, all looking at him expectantly. He hesitated, eyes tracing the markings spread across their skin. These men had chased him halfway across the city, attacked him and tried to kidnap him. The way his mother had laughed and hugged them flashed through his mind. He struggled to remember a time he had seen her happier.

His head was spinning. What was the right choice?

They shared a bond, these people and his mom. Their hair and eyes, their faces. Their quirk. They were all different, but there was an inexplicable connection between them that was so strong and obvious that even he could sense it. These men had put him through hell, yet his mother obviously trusted them, cared for them even, and if his mother could do that, then maybe...

Looking at them, something clicked inside his young mind. All of a sudden he stopped seeing them as individuals, and instead could only view them as a group. It was one of those things you can't unsee; once you realized it, it became so obvious, so undeniably true, that there was no chance of refuting it.

They were parts of a whole. He didn't really know how he knew it, but he did. These men had appeared out of nowhere in the worst way possible, yet somehow they had his mother's trust, and she their's. Izuku was too young to consciously understand what he was seeing, but it reminded him of what he sometimes saw between his parents when his dad was still alive.

For the first time, Izuku fully believed they were family.

He looked to his mother, hesitating. If everything she had said about her old home was true… if they could teach him to use his quirk… if they had a family he never knew about…

He made a decision.

"Promise they're not villains?"

"I promise."

He gave the men an unsure look, but nodded. "Ok. Let's go."

Inko smiled and caressed his face, before getting to her feet and leading him down the passage. "Go and put the clothes on your bed into the suitcase. Don't worry about folding them. And just the clothes, Izuku, we don't have room for anything else."

"Can't I take some of my toys? Please mom?"

She pursed her lips for a moment before nodding. "Only one though, _abanti_."

"And my coloring set?"

"Fine, but that's it. Nothing more."

Izuku looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it and rushed into his room. Inko carried on to the master bedroom, and as Boanat had claimed, a bulging medium-sized carry bag sat at the foot of her bed. She grabbed it and the small wooden fish pendant from the corner of her vanity and left the room without a backward glance.

As she walked back into the living room, she paused at the doorway, turned to her left, took two measured steps forward and plunged her glowing arm through the wall. There was a small puff of dust as the plaster gave way. She felt her hand brush against a piece of fabric, grabbed it, and pulled a backpack out of the hollowed out section of the wall. She had put it there years ago, in case they ever needed to bug out in a hurry. It was stuffed nearly to bursting; inside was her own Koa blade, a gun, ammunition, a considerable sum of cash spread across several different currencies and her and Izuku's passports - some real, most fake. Hisashi's too, but there was no use for those now.

Walking over to a bemused Tep, she shoved the bag containing her clothes into his hands. "I assume you have a car ready. Go put this in the back and start the engine. We need to leave quickly." She turned to Shaipa. "Go keep a look out. Shout when you see the police or any _pituan_."

The two blinked at her, before turning to look at Boanat. He smirked and gestured for them to do as they were told. They rolled their eyes and shared exasperated glances, but left the apartment with nought but quite grumbles. Inko shouldered the backpack and grabbed a reusable fabric shopping bag from one of the kitchen drawers. She half turned to walk away, but caught sight of her phone charging by the outlet next to the kettle. It was on twenty three percent. Five missed calls, twelve text messages. Three of the calls were from Shōgakku, the other two and the text messages were from an evidently frantic Mitsuki. After a moment of hesitation, she unplugged her phone and pocketed it.

Her father walked off down the passage as she exited the kitchen, saying something about going to help Izuku. There was no visible sign to say as such, but Inko could tell he was anxious.

She grabbed two photos from the walls, one from a dinner with the Bakugou family and the other a family portrait of her, Hisashi and a three year old Izuku. She stuffed them into the shopping bag, not daring to take more than that. Walking over to the shelf beside the TV, she grabbed her husband's portrait and blade and stuffed them into the bag as well, before carefully wrapping the loose fabric into a bundle around the objects.

Just like that, she was ready to leave. She had finished packing and was about to say goodbye to the life she had spent the last seven years building. She looked around her, taking a moment to wonder at just how abrupt this all was. The groceries she had bought still lay half unpacked on the kitchen counter. Her and her son's lives had been turned upside down in a matter of… _emka_, it hadn't even been an hour. And now they were leaving their home.

She was unbelievably proud of her son. She couldn't imagine all the stress and confusion he must be feeling. This would be scary for anyone, but somehow her little boy was holding himself together remarkably well. As for herself, she was mildly surprised to find that her melancholy and uncertainty were quickly being buried beneath excitement. She would never regret leaving with Hishashi, but she missed Lua. She missed her family and she missed her life as a Koa. Not only was she going back to all that, but she'd get to share it with Izuku.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, her son hurried into the room, the wheelie bag he dragged behind him rocking from one wheel to the other in his haste. Boanat followed him, a poorly hidden shit-eating grin in place. Izuku had a guilty look on his face and difficulty meeting her eyes. Inko looked at her father, gaze narrowed in suspicion.

He leaned closer. "_I may have helped him smuggle more than a few of his toys into the bag,_" he whispered, which was ultimately useless since Izuku couldn't understand what was said anyway.

Inko gave him a flat look, though internally she cooed at what she knew was her father's attempts to lay the foundations of his relationship with Izuku. He could be really -

"We need to go, now! They will be here in less than a minute!"

Shaipa's sudden shout caused Izuku to jump; Inko and Boanat to jump into action. He yelped as Inko suddenly grabbed him and tucked him under her arm as if he weighed nothing. Boanat did the same with his luggage, and together they sprinted for the door. A few seconds later, Inko and Izuku left their home for the last time.

They arrived at the landing just in time to see Shaipa preparing to jump over the railing. "No time for the stairs," he said with a grunt as he vaulted over the concrete barrier.

Much to Izuku's horror, his mother and grandfather didn't hesitate in following him.

With a running start, they easily leapt over the barrier, their heads coming dangerously close to the floor above them. There was a peculiar sound as they fell, like a mosquito buzzing around a microphone. It took a second for Izuku to realize it was him, screaming.

The sound was a bit too shrill for his liking.

He thrashed and squirmed as they fell, only to realize they weren't _actually_ falling. They were... descending. Slowly. Izuku looked up in awe at his mother's glowing eyes, and after whipping his head around to check, found Shaipa and Boanat had matching pairs. All three had big, see-through shapes moving behind their backs. It was hard to tell, but they looked like wings. The space behind them shimmered, like the air above a hot fire, and he could see small rainbows appear and disappear along the shapes.

Izuku's eyes glittered. That was _so cool_! He wanted to be able to do that!

They landed three seconds after jumping and hit the ground running. Izuku was jostled like a sack of potatoes as Inko, Boanat and Shaipa sprinted to the small white Honda sitting by the gate with its engine running, Tep behind the wheel. Boanat threw himself into the passenger seat with Izuku's luggage while the other three piled into the back. The car lurched forward before the doors had fully closed. Taking a sharp turn to the right, they sped off in the opposite direction of the sirens.

Izuku, flanked by Inko and Shaipa, turned around in his seat to look out the back window. The red and blue lights had just crested the top of the hill and were visible for a brief second before they turned down a side street and they once again disappeared from view.

"They're going to find us," he said fearfully.

Boanat gave an amused huff from the front seat. "Don't worry, _mopuna_. If we had been a second slower then they might have, but not now."

Izuku eyed him uncertainly, before turning to Inko, who was busy typing something into her phone.

"Mom," he whispered. "What does '_mopuna' _mean?"

She didn't answer immediately. Boanat glanced in the rear view mirror and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw what she was doing. He nearly tore the seat out of its brackets as he spun around to face her, startling Izuku in the process.

"_You brought your phone?_" he hissed.

She briefly paused to send him a glare before resuming typing. "_Relax, I'm not stupid. I'll get rid of it as soon as I'm done._"

"_Done what?_" Tep asked, eyes on the road.

"_Sending a message to a friend. I'd like her to know that we haven't been killed, kidnapped or sold into slavery by the strange foreigners that showed up at my son's school and held his teacher at gunpoint._" She glared at him as her ta'taoh glowed briefly and she snapped the smartphone in half (much to Izuku's surprise), before throwing it out the window. "_Us four are going to have a long, _long_ talk about that, by the way._"

Izuku frowned in confusion as the three men suddenly grimaced and fell silent. "Can you guys please talk so I can understand you?" He asked with a pout, folding his arms.

Inko smiled down at him and ran her fingers through his hair. He leaned into her touch. "_Mopuna_ means 'small one'. It's what grandparents sometimes call their grandchildren, like how I call you _abanti_. That means 'my child'.

Izuku stared at her. He hadn't known that meant anything; he'd always just thought it was something she called him, like how Aunt Mitsuki always called Kacchan 'brat'. What language was that? Was it what they spoke at this place they were going to? Where was that anyway? How much more family did they have?

Inko could see the questions once again getting ready to burst out of her son and hurriedly intervened. Normally she'd gladly answer whatever questions he had, but now wasn't the time.

"I need you to do something for me, _abanti_."

His mouth, which had just begun opening to verbalize his curiosity, snapped shut. He gave a compliant nod, an adorably serious look on his face.

"I need you to keep a look out behind us. If you see any heroes or police cars, I need you to tell me, okay?"

He hesitated for a moment, an uncomfortable look on his face, before nodding and twisting around in his seat to peer out the back window. In doing so, he made eye contact with Shaipa. Man and boy stared at each other for a moment. Shaipa tried for a smile, though it became strained when Izuku shied away from him. He sighed, knowing it was his own fault.

In the first ten minutes of the car drive Izuku pointed out three different squad cars and five different heroes. He'd even managed to spot one of them before any of the Koa. All of them had been moving with purpose, the squad cars with their lights on and the heroes with alert eyes. Tep mostly stuck to the main roads, sometimes cutting through residential areas to avoid traffic. Their car was a generic brand, one of hundreds on the road. Even if the heroes did know what to look for, it was like trying to spot the red marble in a bag full of rubies.

If Izuku was being honest, this was actually exciting. Sure, it had been scary at first, and still was, but now that he actually had a chance to sit and calm down, he realized this was actually kind of fun. It was like the car games he and his mom sometimes played when they drove somewhere, though of course this was real and they were actually running from the police. That somehow made it more exciting.

Needless to say, Izuku was kept busy all the way to the coast. They left the car in an underground parking lot a few minutes from the harbour and walked the rest of the way. Izuku thought they must have looked rather strange; three men, a woman and himself walking next to the highway, carrying heavy bags, wearing dirty, torn and bloody clothes and sporting weird tattoos.

For what must have been the hundredth time, he pulled at the collar of his shirt and peered down at the symbols on his chest. His fingers brushed the marked skin, a giddy grin on his face. He had a quirk.

As they got closer to where he could see the ships floating, his nose wrinkled at the smell of fish that suddenly appeared on the breeze. Something about it smelled rotten. The smell got stronger as they walked through a gate, and was soon joined by the smell of stale cigarette smoke and pee as they stopped in between two warehouses. Shaipa pulled out a phone and walked a short distance away to make a call as Izuku pulled a disgusted face.

Boanat laughed. "You will get used to it, _mopuna_," he assured. "For now, try breathing through your mouth only."

Izuku stared at him for a moment, before following the suggestion. It didn't disappear, but the smell became less pungent. Izuku sent a tentative smile at his grandfather (he had a _grandfather_!) and received a beaming grin in return, prompting him to clutch Inko's hand tighter and move closer to her. Boanat laughed again.

After waiting a bit, two men came down the alley, stumbling slightly. Dan and Ryoji both froze when they saw the kid and the woman with the men, horror spreading across their faces.

Ryoji might not have had much in the way of integrity, but there were definite lines he refused to cross. Human trafficking was one of them. A quick glance showed Dan was thinking much the same thing.

"You said you weren't moving anything," he whispered, eyes locked on the kid and his mother. Had he just ruined their lives? "That includes people."

He received confused looks. Tep was the first to catch on, realization dawning after a few seconds.

"You misunderstand," he quickly explained, holding out a pacifying hand. "This is my sister and nephew. We're bringing them home; they've come with us willingly."

He gestured to their luggage, which caused the two smugglers to hesitate. They looked at each other, and then Inko for confirmation. She gave them a firm nod. They hesitated a moment longer, then gestured for the group to follow them.

Inko wrinkled her nose as she got closer. "Have you been drinking?"

Ryoji left Dan to answer that question as he moved to walk alongside Boanat.

"Can I expect trouble from this?" Ryoji asked him as they walked along the wharf.

He pursed his lips. "It could have gone better," he admitted. "The police will be looking for us."

Ryoji gave him a sharp look. "Why would the police be looking for you? You said you just went to pick up those two!"

Boanat gave him him a sheepish look. "We may have done so in a way law enforcement did not like."

Ryoji took in the state of their clothes and groaned.

"Do not worry _um hoabo_, we made sure we were not followed. I do not think they will come looking for clues here, but if they do…"

He fished around in the bag he carried, the one they had brought with them.

"Here is your compensation for the trouble."

Ryoji grimaced as the second half of his payment plopped into his hand. It was noticeably heavier than the first bag, but the extra money would do him no good if he ended up in prison. He sighed and waved his hand at the seaplane. Dan was busy unmooring the line.

"Just get out of here. The sooner you're gone, the better. For everyone."

Boanat nodded and walked over to help Shaipa load their luggage into the fuselage. Ryoji sighed and gave the woman and kid one last look. The boy was giving the plane a nervous frown. He wondered what was in store for them.

He turned and started walking back to the harbor's main entrance. It would take Dan about ten minutes to finish his pre-flight checks, and if any cops showed up during that time he would need to stall them for as long as possible.

There wasn't so much as a traffic cop. Everything went smoothly and ten minutes later Izuku was staring out the window as Japan's eastern coastline shrank beneath him.

They were doing it. They were really leaving everything behind and going somewhere new. It was surreal, terrifying and exciting all at the same time.

He kept on staring out the window until all that surrounded them was sea and sky, and then stared some more. This was his first time in a plane, and after getting past the initial apprehension and the irritating pressure in his ears, all that was left was wonder.

When he did turn back, his eyes were drawn to the two of the men he had met just that day. The seats ran along the length of the fuselage, facing each other; he, Inko and Shaipa sat on one side while Tep and Boanat sat across from them. His grandfather and uncle. The former gave him one of his signature grins while the other was clutching his seat belt, eyes closed, face pale and knuckles white. How come he had never heard of them before today? How come he hadn't known… _anything_?

He tried to ask his mom, but the sound of the engines was so loud that conversation was impossible. He eventually gave up trying and simply sat back in his chair and looked around the cabin. It wasn't long before all the excitement and steady thrum of the engines worked their magic and he drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

He woke up intermittently throughout the trip, these brief periods of consciousness proving uninteresting enough that he fell back asleep quickly. The adults were either looking out the window, asleep themselves, or in Tep's case, trying not to throw up. Izuku took a small amount of vengeful glee in the man's discomfort before nodding off again.

The final time he woke up, it was to Inko shaking his shoulder excitedly. He blearily rubbed at his eyes as he watched her mouth move, the words smothered by the roar of the engines.

She was pointing at something out the window, grinning from ear to ear. Her eyes were shining with excitement. Twisting around in his seat he followed the direction of her finger and gasped.

The sun was still high in the sky, allowing him a clear view of the landmass sitting in the middle of the endless blue. The waters around it were a clear, pale blue, allowing an uninterrupted line of sight with the seafloor, which was covered in a carpet of white sand and dark masses of coral. The island itself was made up of two pieces of land, the smaller connected to the larger by a massive sandbar. Both had a thick outline of white, sandy beaches that disappeared into the green of the jungle.

Vegetation almost completely covered the island. It rolled across the hills and climbed up the slopes of the three mountain peaks he could see towering over the land below. Izuku could see brown dirt trails criss-crossing through the trees and a few ruined structures dotting the landscape. They looked ancient, and Izuku felt the immediate urge to go and explore them.

Patches of pinks, yellows, blues and many other colors decorated the green carpet, breaking up the monotony of the emerald color. The sun shining on the water behind it gave the island an ethereal, golden glow, making it look otherworldly.

Izuku was speechless. It was beautiful, like the pictures he had seen of places like Hawaii or Fiji.

Inko put her lips right next to his ear. "This is our home now, Izuku." She was shouting and he could still barely hear her. "Welcome to Lua, the land of the Koa."

XXX

The detective leaned back in his office chair and rubbed his eyes, sighing. It had been nearly a full day since he had last slept and at this point, his brain had turned to mush. Everyone else had already gone home, except for the cleaning staff of course, so he was left alone in a dark and empty precinct.

He went to take another sip of coffee and grimaced as he found his mug to be empty. With a sigh, he set it back down and regarded the mess on his desk with contempt. Honestly, he didn't know how to feel about it. On one hand, he had been incredibly lucky to get this opportunity. There were hero agencies that specialized in criminal investigations and information gathering, so for a case as big as this one to be handed over to the police was a stroke of luck.

That is, if he could solve it.

The evidence was conflicting. At first glance, it was nothing more than a straightforward kidnapping. Two villains had shown up at an elementary school, tried to get one of the kids to leave with them and pulled a gun out when the boy refused. The kid ran, the villains gave chase and the last anyone saw of them was on their way out of a nearby train station.

After beating the _shit_ out of two of Japan's more formidable heroes.

The detective glanced once again at the medical reports of Snipe and Gunhead. Even after reading through them several times, he found them morbidly fascinating. Snipe was currently in a coma, with a severe concussion and fractured skull. The doctors were fairly certain he'd recover, but were less sure about his ability to resume hero work. The skin around his left eye was a patchwork of stitched up cuts and inflamed skin. His eardrum had ruptured and apparently some glass had found its way into the eye socket. They wouldn't be sure if it still worked or not until he woke up. _If_ he woke up - the report mentioned that was a real possibility.

Gunhead's prospects looked better by comparison, but he was no less injured. A punctured lung, five broken ribs, two fractured, a broken jaw bone and a quite a few missing teeth. He had been in and out of consciousness since being admitted to the hospital.

There weren't more than ten minutes between when the villains showed up at the school and when witnesses said they saw the unharmed perpetrators chasing the kid through the train station, and this was where the case started getting interesting. Kidnappers weren't uncommon, but kidnappers that could _break_ two heroes like Snipe and Gunhead in a timeframe as short as a few minutes and walk away unscathed? You would _know_ about them.

Except they didn't. The quirk registry showed no records of people with the quirks the two men displayed. He had done a scan of the police archives and the last time a quirk that could have been a match was involved in a crime was from a fifteen year old case of public disturbance. The descriptions they sent out had yet yield results. As far as Japan knew, these men didn't exist. Either they had been living illegally for a number of years or, more likely, they had entered the country undetected.

At one of the teachers urging, they had rushed to the boy's house. Apparently the villains had claimed to have tortured his mother, which made the fact that she wasn't answering the school's calls _very_ concerning. They had showed up at an empty apartment.

Groceries lay half unpacked on the kitchen counter; Inko Midoriya had been caught by surprise.

The door had been wide open, with obvious signs of a struggle further inside - blood on the floor, broken furniture, items strewn all over the place, including two broken and twisted kitchen knives. She had put up one hell of a fight.

There was a hollowed out section of the wall that looked to have been plastered over. A hiding place for something? If so, what was Inko Midoriya hiding? Did it have anything to do with their abduction?

Their cupboards had been ransacked and some of their clothes were missing, and there were one or two empty spaces on the wall where pictures had hung. This was odd; kidnappers usually weren't concerned about whether their victims had a change of clothes or not, and for the life of him he couldn't think of a reason for taking some family photos.

That and the mysterious nature of the villains were the only aberrations; otherwise it was a fairly straight forward abduction.

Or, it was, until Mitsuki Bakugou.

The detective sighed and ran his hand over his face. Leaning forward, he once again stared in consternation at the single piece of paper that was giving him such a headache. It was the last clue they had to the Midoriya's whereabouts and circumstances, and it turned the entire investigation on its head. A single screenshot of a text message. The phone it had been sent from couldn't be found. This was the last correspondence of Inko Midoriya.

_'Mitsuki,'_ it read. '_I don't have a lot of time, so I'm going to keep this short. Izuku and I are okay. This might be hard to believe, but I know the men that tried to take him from school. Despite what they may have done, they are not going to hurt us. Mitsuki, we have to leave with them. They've come to take me and Izuku back home. We'll both be fine, but it will be a long time before you see either of us again, if ever. I'm sorry this is the only farewell I could give. I know you have no way of knowing if this really me, so I want you to know that I hate that fashion line you designed after my clothes. It looked fucking ridiculous._

_Goodbye, Mitsuki. I hope we see each other again._

_Inkombi Midoriya.'_

**AN: This was the hardest fucking thing I have ever had to write. Seriously. It fought me with every paragraph, and I had to rewrite certain parts of it several times before I was even remotely satisfied with it. I'm still not sure I like it.**

**Anyway, here it is. Feel free to comment in a review or give advice if you feel it's needed. Also let me know which girls you want in the harem. I can say with certainty that Kyoka, Momo, and Mei will be in it. Possibly Midnight too. I'm not too concerned with making this one too big, unlike with my RWBY story, so go nuts. **

**Glossary:**

**_Kanisegan? - _Truly? (Like how we would use the word 'really'.)**

**_Anagwu - _Spider_._**

**_Kaikintomba - _My daughter.**

**_Yeka! - _Stop!**

**_Ukrēgo - _Shark_._**

**_Hetoni? - _What?**

**_Yena inia 'n wahkulé! _Izuku_, wena inia 'n wahkulé! Makou hezikon _****_ungangah! - _We were wrong! Izuku, they were wrong! You have a quirk!**

**_Umkhulu - _Father.**

**I think that's everything. If I missed something, let me know in a review. **

**Cheers!**


End file.
